


Axe Omakes

by Thorinsmut



Series: Axes and Knives [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, So much smut, appropriate warnings in chapter summaries, lots of smut, this has become smut central
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 54,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a place for little bits of headcanon that didn't make it into my Nori/Dwalin fic <i>your Axe to my throat, my Knife to yours</i><br/>Includes bits and pieces of things that people asked about that didn't make it into the final product, as well as quite a bit of smut.</p><p>Now arranged into approximately chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elrond's Knot

“The Dwarves, they're... gone.” Lindir's face showed his worry, the dark haired young Elf held something in his hand, he passed it to Lord Elrond, concern and wonder playing across his features.  
Elrond took the small twig, eyebrows rising in surprise as he reached up to touch the delicate knotwork.  
It was a work of art, silvery thread that he realized with amusement must have come from one of his own robes knotted with an even hand into a many-pointed flower – it could have bloomed from the twig itself, so finely was it crafted.  
 _truly the work of a Master, but why would a Master Knot-Maker choose to join the quest to retake Erebor?  
what possible use could Thorin have for a Knot-Maker?  
_ When he noticed the twist in the knots on the ends of the flower's points, Lord Elrond laughed.  
 _they are laughing_  
 _they laughed as they 'escaped' my home_  
They had been terrible unruly house guests, burning furniture, breaking into the kitchens and pantries stealing food, and making Elves fear for their lives with their constant mock-battle brawls.  
He should have been angry with them, he should have sworn that he would never let another Dwarf into the valley, he should have been offended that someone had pulled a thread from his clothes and left him a flower that laughed at him.  
Lord Elrond laughed.  
They had been extremely entertaining, and in a life as long as his he had grown to appreciate the value of that.  
He thanked Lindir and sent him away.  
Years later, guests who happened to spot it would exclaim over the beauty of a knotted flower discreetly displayed on a shelf in Lord Elrond's chambers.  
It always made him smile.


	2. Plum Silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nori has an intimate moment with some clothes. 
> 
> I had the idea for this little piece set in Rivendell when Nori is stealing thread from Lord Elrond's clothes to make a knot. It goes with chapter 11 of _your Axe to my throat, my Knife to yours_ and I kind of wish I'd thought of it when I was writing the chapter. 
> 
> But, anyway, Lord Elrond is a snappy dresser and Nori loves Dori.

It was easy enough to slip through the window into Lord Elrond's rooms unseen, easy enough to orient himself once there, quickly taking stock of all the things in it.

There was more than one pretty little thing he could get a good price for, but he was here for another reason, and besides there was no one to _sell_ anything to here. He just needed a single thread from a robe, to leave a knot behind if they really _did_ have to sneak away to escape.

The wardrobe was unlocked, and Nori opened it, glad that the hinges were silent, intending to grab a thread and run.

He froze.

...oh.

He was no Dori... but _oh..._

You didn't get to be as successful a thief as Nori without being able to tell _quality_ , and this... this _was._

He drank in the rich colors, the soft sheen of the silks, the crisp linens with a thread-count so high he could barely _see_ them.

He stroked a plum silk robe, the textured fabric thick and sensuous under his fingers, and he _ached_ to snatch it up and run. There was enough fabric in it he could make a pretty penny selling most of it and still bring a big piece home for Dori.

Oh, picture Dori in silk like this – beautiful Dori with his mithril hair set off to perfection by the richness of the fabric. He would love it. He would complain of stolen goods and huff that such things were not for the likes of _him_ , but when no one was looking he would run his fingers over it and smile as he preened, _knowing_ how good he looked...

Nori had stepped up, reaching to pull it from its hanger, when awareness came crashing back on him.

He was not likely to ever have a chance to sell a stolen good again. He was not likely to ever be able to bring home a gift to Dori and Ori again.

They were all three marching off on a mad quest to be eaten by a Dragon.

He stepped back.

Much as he _wanted_ to, it was not a good time to steal the robe. You didn't get to be as successful a thief as Nori if you couldn't control your impulses _sometimes_.

He picked a pretty silver robe and pulled a thread out from the underside of the arm, where it wouldn't show.

He reached out to caress the plum robe one last time before he closed the wardrobe.

“If I ever return, you're mine.” He promised it.

And then he slipped back out the window and was gone and away, leaving no sign that he'd been there.


	3. Lindir Sees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This goes with chapter 10 of Axe (if that's the Rivendel smut chapter). I actually had it in mind way back when I was writing the chapter!  
> Lindir has been assigned Dwarf-watching duties. He sees more than he expected to. He likes it more than he would like to.  
> SMUT AND VOYEURISM  
> additional warning for DUBCON because I put that on the original chapter and yeah... don't want to accidentally spring that on someone.

Lindir had been assigned to keep an eye on the Dwarves during their stay in Rivendell, and while many Elves would have been put out by the task, he was pleased. He had never had a chance to observe the culture and behavior of Aule's children before.  
Lord Elrond had told him to stay out of their way for the most part, to observe from a distance and make any necessary changes as discreetly as possible. He was told not to interfere with them unless they did something truly dangerous.  
Lindir perched comfortably high up on a cliff face, dressed in light breeches and a tunic for climbing, and wrapped in a large gray-green cloak that would disguise him from all but the keenest eyes. He watched the Dwarves, sure in the knowledge that they could not see him.  
They were fascinating.  
They were prickly and defensive when surrounded by Elves, but when relaxing amongst themselves they were roughly affectionate, laughing as they punched or wrestled with one another, playing small jokes.  
Their Hobbit seemed content amongst them, a little shy but easily drawn out by the laughing one with the swoop-eared hat and congruent swooping mustache.  
All but one of the Dwarves seemed content to rest and set up their camp on the veranda, breaking furniture for a fire (He made a mental note to see that a stack of firewood was discreetly provided to them).  
The last Dwarf was even more fascinating than the rest, and Lindir found his eyes drawn to him more than the others. He had oddly impressive hair, swept up into tattered star-points, and braided eyebrows, which was not something Lindir had even thought possible. Lindir wondered if he was perhaps their scout. He hadn't stilled even for a moment, wandering in a crosshatched pattern over the vicinity of the Dwarf camp, sliding through narrow passageways, climbing up and over walls and trees almost as skillfully as an Elf. Lindir hadn't known that Dwarves had that sort of skill, he was certain he had read somewhere that they were all terrified of heights, but here was one dancing light-footed across roofs.  
There was nothing like direct observation to dispel myths and overcome prejudices.  
The Dwarf looked nervous, jumpy, fidgeting every time he sat still, pacing when he wasn't exploring, and after a while of observation Lindir began to wonder if maybe there was something wrong with him. Surely by now he realized that he and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were safe in Rivendel? Did he hate and distrust Elves so much that he could not relax for even a moment in their home? But even Thorin himself had settled into a watchful rest.  
The Dwarf paced in circles for a while, absently flicking a knife in and out of his sleeve and then flashed a terrifying smile as he seemed to come to a decision. He finally returned to his group, sharing a word and a laugh here, a touch there, working his way carefully through the group. Eventually he settled down between the deaf one and the prickly-tempered redhaired one and began to tell a joke or a story... something that had them both laughing beside him, his arms around their shoulders.  
This seemed to anger the big, bald, tattooed, gruff and terrifying one, who stood up with a huff and stomped away.  
The twitching one wrapped up his conversation quickly and ducked away from the group, climbing up and over things as light as a cat, shadowing the big one unobserved.  
Lindir was as surprised as the tattooed Dwarf when the smaller one jumped him, holding a nasty-looking curved blade to his throat and another long thin one that he'd pulled out of his sleeve to his back. (not the same blade he'd been flicking out of his sleeve earlier) The Dwarves had put on such a unified front earlier, it was surprising to see that there were apparently deep rifts in their party. Lindir _really_ hoped that there wasn't going to be a Dwarf murder in Rivendell, because he was certain that Thorin would blame an Elf, and not trust him as an eyewitness.  
The twitching Dwarf seemed to be whispering to the big one, lips almost... no, not almost, lips definitely brushing the ragged bitten ear.  
The big Dwarf, who was deep red with rage, seemed to agree and was released. The smaller one flashed that terrifying smile of sharp teeth and glowing eyes, put away his knives and ducked away through the passages he'd been exploring earlier.  
He was followed by the big one, leading in a wandering path to a little secluded spot near a bathhouse – a lovely little space to have a quiet picnic with a lover, followed by an intimate, leisurely soak, and then, if things went well, an invite home to bed... Lindir had used it himself a time or two. It would break his heart if it were sullied with death...  
Quite suddenly the two Dwarves were all over one another, the smaller one slamming himself against the wall, pulling the big one in, their bodies grinding hard together.  
Oh.  
Lindir... Lindir knew he really ought to be looking away, they clearly thought they had privacy, but...  
The big one ran his hands over the tattered hair of the twitching one, and the twitching one flicked yet _another_ knife out of his sleeve to push the hand away. (the small Dwarf had at least three knives in there. Lindir wondered how many he had. Lindir wondered if all the Dwarves had knives hidden in their sleeves. Lindir wondered if all Dwarves propositioned each other with knives to their throats... perhaps it was considered romantic? Lindir wondered if pulling a knife on a lover was normal during Dwarf relations, because it didn't seem to have phased the big Dwarf.)  
The Dwarves broke apart, removing their clothing, the smaller one clearly directing the larger.  
They were extremely hairy. Lindir had never seen a naked Dwarf before, nor had he ever particularly wanted to. They were... well... they were _impressive_ in a way, the tattooed one in particular, built thick and gnarled, heavy tattoos all over him in the geometric patterns Dwarves seemed to prefer, his body bitten deep with jagged scars. The smaller one was practically slender beside the other, but still built with thick muscles and a heavy line of reddish hair running down his stomach.  
With absolutely no preamble, no kissing, no cuddling, no _foreplay_ whatsoever, the smaller Dwarf had mounted the larger, eyes rolling back in obvious pleasure as he worked the other inside. The big Dwarf's face was a picture of astonishment.  
Surely... surely this was not normal for Dwarf relations? Did Dwarves not kiss? Did Dwarves not enjoy physical intimacy? Lindir considered himself not inexperienced in the ways of love, young though he was, but this was... inexplicable. Love was a thing to be cherished, nurtured, pampered... soft candlelight and slow exploring kisses and scented oil massages leading slowly, slowly toward more as the hours of the night wore on... love was a delicate thing, grown like a seedling into a tree, each leaf and branch explored and enjoyed, staving off the eventual end for as long as possible until neither partner could handle more and they devolved together into the soft trembles and gentle cries of climax.  
Lindir watched the rough copulation of the Dwarves... it was, it was certainly not _lovemaking_ that they were doing. Something else entirely. Something hot and messy and desperate, the big one's hands on the smaller's hips, grinding him fast and hard... it was like _nothing_ Lindir had imagined before. It was wild and unfettered and... and...  
Lindir drew back in his cloak, aware that he had crawled forward to the front of his perch on the cliffside as he stared... suddenly aware of his elevated breathing and an uncomfortable pinch in the front of his breeches.  
Oh.  
Oh, he knew he should not be watching his. He should look away, he should watch the main group of Dwarves. Yes. He would do that... he would...  
Lindir pulled his arms into his cloak, loosening the ties of his breeches to give himself more room and lessen the discomfort.  
He watched in shock as the smaller Dwarf grabbed a handful of the larger's beard, sneering something down at him with utter contempt visible in every line of his face and body.  
Lindir's hand, loosening his laces to adjust himself, froze on his straining erection as the terrifying tattooed Dwarf roared in rage, throwing the smaller one off of himself and pouncing on him to pin him facedown to the ground and  
Oh!  
Only the look of undisguised and unmistakeable joy on he had seen on the smaller Dwarf's face as he was thrown stopped Lindir from trying to put a stop the the violence he was witnessing... only the way the smaller was twisting and bucking his hips, clearly striving to get the most out of the brutality being inflicted on his body that surely _surely_ would break him, would injure him permanently... wouldn't it? Was violence of this sort normal for Dwarf relations, to follow after propositioning with a knife?  
The big Dwarf was pounding himself into the smaller, crushing him into the ground, a look that certainly looked like rage on his face, his gnarled muscles huge and tight, clearly using all of his strength... but the smaller, the smaller seemed to be in bliss as he bucked into the violence.  
What... what must it feel like to be taken in that way? So rough and so... passionate? To be dragged through the stages of arousal that quickly, that intensely? Lindir's entire body clenched at the thought, a seed of heat growing inside him, and he became aware that his hand had somehow made it inside his breeches and he was gripping himself tight, stroking fast and hard...  
Oh, he should stop. This was not right. He should look away. He _would_ look away...  
There was a change in the wildly copulating Dwarves, the bigger's motions growing rougher, less coordinated, and the smaller reached under himself to bring himself off with what seemed to be a scream. Lindir had never seen a climax like that, the smaller Dwarf's entire body clenching and bucking, followed quickly by the tattooed Dwarf, who's eyes rolled back in his head as he drove himself harder and wilder into the smaller, mouth falling open, head thrown back...  
What must it feel like to drive that powerfully, that fast, that wild... to feel a lover climax that _hard_ around you?  
Lindir's hand tightened unconsciously where he worked himself, and combined with the thought was too much, too much, the seed of heat unfurling through his stomach, Lindir's body shivered and he collapsed, he spending into his hand, choking back a small cry as he saw the bigger Dwarf fall forward, _biting_ the smaller Dwarf as his body bucked and trembled through his climax.  
So vicious, so vicious it couldn't be right... it couldn't be right, could it? It couldn't feel good, could it? It shouldn't be something he was trying to think up a way to try to suggest to a lover without frightening them, was it?  
Lindir briefly closed his eyes, his sudden arousal fading, replaced by embarrassed shame.  
He should not have intruded in such a way, lovemaking was a _private_ thing, and they could not have known that they could be watched, he should not have. This was not at _all_ what Lord Elrond had meant for him when he gave him the task of watching Dwarves!  
His eyes opened to see the smaller Dwarf swaggering away into the bathhouse, a loose grin on his face and all his previous tension evaporated from his body and his hair now _utterly_ disheveled; the big one still lying on the ground, an astonished look on his face.  
Did Dwarves dispense with after-lovemaking affections too? That seemed so... so... wrong. No. It was the _best part_ , how could they?  
Dwarves did things wrong. All wrong.  
Lindir went over all that was wrong with Dwarven lovemaking as he carefully cleaned himself. Dispensing with all affections, _biting_ one another, _throwing_ one another into the ground, pounding in as hard and fast as possible with no regard for duration, abbreviating all the pleasure of a lovemaking into a few short minutes of what must be near-blinding intensity...  
He could feel himself begin to twitch back to attention already, ( _already!_ ) and he rested his forehead on the cool stone of the cliff with a desperate groan.  
Oh dear,  
Oh dear,  
 _Where_ was he going to find a lover who would not be appalled by the very idea? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are interested in more of this story, it spun off into its own fic - with smut and misunderstandings, public indecency and rough sex and cuddles, and ending on love.   
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/768272/chapters/1440549


	4. Thranduil's Knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does Thranduil feel about the knot Nori left behind?

The cell door had to be removed. Somehow, impossibly, it had been locked with some other key... yet another impossibility along with the disappearance of no less than thirteen Dwarves.  
Their blankets were folded, another slap in the face, as though they were being polite house guests, as though they could have left any time they wanted.  
 _could they?  
_ Thranduil stepped into the cell with extreme dignity, to pick up the final impossibility that lay across the folded blanket in the cell, knowing it could not _really_ be what it looked like.  
It was.  
 _how How HOW?  
how did they steal my hair?  
_He would have crushed it in his fist, but...  
 _these knots, so even and so perfect  
it's like lace... I never knew that clumsy Dwarf fingers could make such exquisite work  
of course, with material as fine as my hair of course it's beautiful...  
_He ran his fingers down the ghost of a leaf, admiring the craftsmanship.  
 _truly a masterwork, and of my own hair  
the sort of work that one passes down as an heirloom from generation to generation  
almost, almost I could forgive them for the insult of escaping...  
_Then he noticed what it said, _“derisive laughter”,_ right along the spine of the leaf.  
 _HOW DARE THEY MOCK ME!  
_ He turned toward a torch to throw the offensive knotwork into it.  
 _but it's so beautiful, don't destroy it!  
but it's so rude, get rid of it!  
but... but...  
_“Father?” Prince Legolas looked at Thranduil in concern, and the Elf King wordlessly handed the beautiful offensive leaf to him, watched the same mix of wonder and anger cross over his son's features. Finally he looked up to meet Thranduil's eyes, each reading the same question in the other's eyes.  
 _what do we do with it?_


	5. Nethanu sad ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sad ending for Nethanu, who appears in chapter 16 of _Axe to my throat_  
>  (don't read this chapter. Read the chapter entitled 'lost puppy' instead)

Nethanu knew what it was to be lonely.  
He was born to a diminished people, decimated by war and driven to a small pocket of the forest that was once the Greenwood and was now Mirkwood.  
Their numbers were few.  
Their children were few.  
Nethanu knew what it was to be lonely.  
He was born to a common family.  
He was never beautiful, always too short and his hair, no matter how much oil he brushed through it, refused to fall in a smooth sheet and curled messily around his head.  
He endured being teased as having a Dwarf somewhere in his ancestry, being asked when his beard was going to grow in.  
Nethanu _knew_ what it was to be lonely.  
He worked in the kitchens, the youngest cook, and he did like the work but he was always at the lowest rung of the pecking order. He was always the one doing the messy jobs that no one else wanted.  
He wondered how many hundreds of years it would be before he graduated and was treated as the adult he (just barely) was instead of as a child.  
When a group of Dwarves were captured, Nethanu endured the teasing that his people had come for him. He endured being one of the ones ordered to feed the Dwarves, because he was the youngest, and he was the one who did jobs that no one wanted.  
He endured being spat at by the terrifying angry bald Dwarf who threw broken pieces of furniture with deadly accuracy. He endured being glared at. He endured being (he assumed) cursed at by a Dwarf with _an axe embedded in his head_ , who shouted and made threatening gestures every time he had to ask the same question.  
“Are you ready to speak with King Thranduil.”  
Nethanu tried, he really tried, to be polite to them, to show them that he was friendly. He noticed the smallest one, the one in the knitted cardigan, turn his nose up at greens even though he was starving, and made sure to find other things to feed that one.  
They might be rude, and ignore or glare or shout or spit at him, but he could not bear to think of them going hungry.  
Nethanu knew what it was to be unhappy, and he tried to remember that they were unwilling prisoners, and he tried to forgive them even when he wanted to run away and cry.  
(and he could not run away and cry because he was (just barely) an adult now and adults don't)  
Nethanu knew what it was to be lonely (he was so lonely) so when one of the Dwarves actually _looked_ at him, and then smiled, and wanted to talk to him...  
when he said he was _lonely...  
_ he could not, he _could not_ abandon him.  
He came back as soon as he could, and the Dwarf smiled at him like the sun had risen.  
The Dwarf reached through the bars to him, and touched his hand, just his hand, and blushed, and was shy, and asked him about himself.  
The Dwarf's fingers were warm, thick and short but so _so_ gentle as he held his hand, and explained that he was used to being surrounded by his family, and it would make him feel better just to hear someone talk...  
Nethanu had never had anyone who wanted to just _listen_ to him before, someone who wanted him to tell stories about even the most simple things. The Dwarf listened to him, and smiled, and held his hand, and asked questions, and blushed when their eyes met.  
He came back the next day, and the Dwarf was happy to see him, and talk with him more.  
He came back the next day, and the Dwarf was still happy to see him and talk with him.  
And the next day.  
Nethanu began to notice that the Dwarf was pretty. He was so unlike an Elf that Nethanu had not noticed it before, but he was slender and lean (for a Dwarf), with delicate (for a Dwarf) hands, and his hair was smooth, much smoother than the other Dwarves' hair. Nethanu wondered, if he took the Dwarf to the baths and brushed oil through his hair, if it might not be a smooth sheet to rival even beautiful prince Legolas' hair... (he had to stop the thought because no one wore clothes in the baths and he didn't know what a naked Dwarf looked like and he didn't want to think about it too much because it made him blush and he didn't want to scare off his friend)  
He thought his heart would stop the first time the Dwarf lifted his hand to the bars and kissed his knuckles.  
It had been brief and light, and it was just before he left. He had a full day to convince himself that it had been an accident before he saw his (no, no, not his) Dwarf again.  
As soon as he sat beside the Dwarf, his hand was taken and his knuckles gently kissed, the Dwarf's shining hazel eyes never leaving his even though he blushed.  
A few days later, his Dwarf began to touch his hair, running his warm fingers through it, praising it's softness. No one had done that for Nethanu, not since he was a child on his mother's knee and this was so _so_ different from that. He knew he should not allow such intimacy, but he could not help leaning into that wonderful touch, and his Dwarf smiled at him, and was happy to listen to him talk the way no one ever was.  
And Nethanu was not lonely anymore. He woke up every day knowing that he would see his Dwarf, and his Dwarf would be happy to see him, and would touch him and make him feel beautiful. It made it less scary to be spat at by the tattooed dwarf, and yelled at by the axe dwarf, and ignored or glared at by the other Dwarves, or made to do chores by the other cooks. He could endure anything, because he had someone to see who would be happy to see him.  
The first time his Dwarf accidentally brushed his ear with those warm fingers it was all Nethanu could do not to moan. His Dwarf clearly had no idea what he had done to him, and Nethanu was too embarrassed to tell him... and a small terrible part of him wanted it to happen again (and again and again), a desire to shameful to be voiced. He kept silent.  
Nethanu knew that Dwarves were skilled with crafts, but he had never seen it in action before. He did not know what his Dwarf's craft was until he watched him craft a knot from a single hair of Nethanu's head. His fingers were so incredibly nimble, flashing as they twisted and turned and Nethanu had an irreplaceable gift of such beauty...  
He kept the tiny flower close to his heart. He had never been given something so precious before.  
It was only the first knotted gift his Dwarf gave him, and he did not treasure any of them less than any other.  
His Dwarf's smile when he gifted him back a handful of colorful threads kept Nethanu warm for a whole day. It would not do for a craftsman of such skill to be denied the tools of his trade...  
When the time came for the end of summer celebration, Nethanu had a small and terrible hope that his Dwarf would ask him to stay with him through the night. He made sure his Dwarf understood that no one would be in the Palace, they would all be drinking and dancing all night, but his Dwarf was too sweet to ask it of him. His Dwarf encouraged Nethanu to enjoy himself, to sing and dance for him too.  
He left his Dwarf, receiving one final touch to his hair that brushed that warm, warm hand the full length of his ear (oh, again and again and again), giving one last indirect kiss from his fingertips to his Dwarf's cheek.  
He tried to do as his Dwarf had asked, to sing and dance for two, when all he wanted was to creep back to his Dwarf's cell and talk and hold hands.  
He went early early, when most were still hung over and sleeping, to see his Dwarf, but he was gone.  
There was a knot, Nethanu's own hair and a thread from his robe.  
Apologies deception?  
He took it. He placed it near his heart with the others.  
All the Dwarves were gone.  
He should have raised an alarm, but then he might have to answer why he had been looking for Dwarves when he was not assigned to, so he crept home to his room.  
He did not understand.  
His Dwarf would not have left him without saying goodbye? Surely his Dwarf knew that he loved him, would not have stopped him... would have come with him? 

 Nethanu had thought he knew what it was to be lonely, but it was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to the loneliness he felt now.  
Now he knew that true loneliness was knowing what it was like to have someone, and to have them gone.  
He knew he had to find his Dwarf again. 

 When King Thranduil ordered that they would march on the Lonely Mountain, Nethanu volunteered to come with, and though he was young he was allowed. He was a cook, which was useful, but he was also a fair archer.  
He would come with, he would go to the Mountain, and he would find some way to see his Dwarf again.  
He had to see his Dwarf again because he knew now that Nethanu was nothing without his Dwarf. 

 Marching with an army was far harder than he had expected, and Nethanu, being young (and considered useless), was sent to help the destitute refugees of Laketown.  
It was good work, it was work to be proud of. He cooked for those who were truly hungry, and he helped ease suffering, but the Mountain hung in the distance and his heart pulled him toward it.  
His Dwarf was there. 

 Nethanu was there for the battle, the terrible terrible battle against the Goblins. He shot and shot his arrows until he had no arrows left and he fought with his sword even though he was not good with it.  
He saw his Dwarf, he would know his Dwarf anywhere, even in the chaos of battle, even if he wore unfamiliar armor.  
He could not get to him. The press of Goblins around them was too great.  
Nethanu survived, somehow, he did not know how, when Elves of far greater skill died.  
He picked his way, in a daze of grief and exhaustion, through the battlefield strewn with the dead and dying, toward where he had seen his Dwarf last.  
He found his Dwarf.  
His Dwarf stood holding the hand of the terrifying tattooed Dwarf, who was injured, a broken spear stabbing through him, and his face... his face was not like any Nethanu had seen on him before.  
This Dwarf was sharp edges and desperation and too much teeth, not like Nethanu's Dwarf, who was gentle and shy.  
“Healer!” the Dwarf-who-was-not-his-Dwarf shouted, screamed in desperation.  
“No, don't die, you can't die!” He begged, quietly, but no less desperately, gazing down on the Dwarf with a look far more passionate and raw than Nethanu had ever seen on anyone.  
“Healer!” he screamed again, and then again turning to the injured Dwarf, “Don't you die! Don't you _dare_ die!”  
The Dwarf-who-was-not-his-Dwarf saw Nethanu, but did not see him, did not know him, did not recognize him... and that pierced Nethanu in a way that no Goblin spear had been able to.  
He crumpled gently to the bloodied ground, kneeling in the mud, his hand pressing the knots his Dwarf had given him to his heart, and he knew he would die.  
He did not care.  
It was there that Legolas found him. 

 Legolas was searching for injured when he found the youth, Nethanu the cook if he remembered rightly, who was too young, _far_ too young to have been in such a battle.  
“Where are you injured?” He asked, because he could not see any injuries on him, kneeling beside the youth, placing gentle hands on him.  
The youth curled into him, clung to him, sobbing as a broken tale emerged of a heart sweet and innocent and unblemished, captured and used and then casually broken by a treacherous Dwarf... but the broken heart telling the tale placed the blame on itself.  
Knots were placed in Legolas' hand, the youth's hair and colorful thread knotted together, and the Prince could not help but recognize the craftsman's hand, the same hand that had somehow stolen his father's hair and left a leaf of beauty and insult, the hand of the Dwarf who had carried an impossible arsenal of knives on his person and smiled like a carrion-eater.  
The Dwarf was lucky he was not outside the Mountain, because Legolas would have placed an arrow through him.  
Legolas hated him, hated him all the more because Nethanu would not.  
He lifted the youth to carry him to the camp, and what he saw in Nethanu's face chilled him to the core.  
It had been a true love, an only love, that the innocent had given to the monster of a Dwarf who had discarded him.  
He would die.  
He would die of they did not get him Valinor.  
Legolas knew, then, that he would hate all Dwarves forever, if their race could birth someone who could do such a terrible thing to such a sweet youth.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dude! I told you not to read it!


	6. Sunshine and Rainbows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!WARNINGS!!!!!  
>  ON-SCREEN CHARACTER DEATH  
> STRONG DUB-CON  
> SUICIDE THROUGH RECKLESSNESS  
> NOT THE HAPPY ENDING  
> (please let me know if there should be more warnings)
> 
> This is why I went cannon with the BOFA, because I couldn't make a happy ending otherwise. _Don't read this chapter_. It is a bad chapter. It is not the cannon ending. It is a sad chapter, and will give you sads, and there is no reason to have sads because the story HAD A HAPPY ENDING!  
>  I REPEAT: DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER
> 
> In this chapter, all the bonding Nori and Dwalin did after Laketown, and Nori's self-realization at Dwalin's bedside, didn't happen. 
> 
> This chapter is called 'sunshine and rainbows' because I believe that is what GreenKangaroo calls the 'no one dies in the BOFA AU'.

Nori had killed more than enough Dwarves to know a death wound. Even the best healer couldn't save him. He was half-propped against the wall of the alley, holding his gashed body together with his hands, out of habit mostly, as he lay amongst the garbage and the filth in the growing pool of his own blood.  
It was a suiting end for him, the way he'd always known he'd go.  
It was just as well that he couldn't feel anything.  
If he could feel anything it might have been gratitude that those who'd killed him had left him alone to spend his last moments in peace.  
If he could have felt anything it might have been relief that it was going to be over soon. Two years. Two long years of feeling nothing, no matter how far he ran, or how hard he fucked, or how many prisons he brilliantly escaped, or how many daring thefts he pulled off, or how injured he got, he felt _nothing.  
_ His family, and in his family he included twelve now, would know he was gone when his presents stopped coming. It was the least he could do for them, offering them that closure. There was nothing that they needed, being so incredibly wealthy, but he sent presents anyway. It wasn't hard to get things there, with Dwarves from all over Middle Earth streaming to the Mountain reclaimed. Ori and Dori he sent as he always had, inks and quills and books, and teas and fine fibers and fabrics. The rest had been harder. Bombur he sent rare herbs and spices, that was easy enough. Bifur he sent pieces of exotic wood or bone or ivory for his toy-carving. Bofur had been harder, but Nori sent him pieces of ore from strange mountains, certain that the miner would like it. Bilbo he sent a variety of things, recipes, spices, pretty silk neckerchiefs, little homey-comfort things he thought the Hobbit would like. Oin he sent medical texts from distant lands, and the occasional sample of medicinal herbs. Gloin was harder again, but Nori settled for sending him bits of unusual metalwork, certain that his smith-wife would find them interesting to study. Balin was also hard, he ended up mostly sending him inks and quills, like he did Ori. Fili and Kili were easy enough, Fili loved knives nearly as much as Nori did, so he sent him unusual and beautiful ones. Kili he sent handfuls of finely crafted arrowheads from different cultures, or beautiful feathers from strange birds for fletching. Thorin was probably the hardest, what does one give a King? Nori sent him maps, knowing that the Company would laugh. Thorin's poor sense of direction when above-ground was legend.  
Nori made sure never to send him maps of places that he _was_ , he didn't want anyone trying to track him down.  
His family would know that he was gone when the heavy packages that had no name but bore his knots stopped being delivered to Erebor. There was nothing on his body to identify him, so there was no other way for them to know, for word to reach them.  
It was the least he could give them.  
Those few months traveling with them, terrifying as they had been at the time, had been the best of his life. Loyalty had not been such a _bad_ thing, not with them.  
Nori closed his eyes, closing out the grungy walls of the alley, closing out the smells of piss and rotting garbage and blood, closing out the feeling of his blood pouring rhythmically through his clutching fingers.  
It wouldn't be long now. He hoped the educated Men who said there was nothing after death were right, but he was kitted out decently, so if they were right who said you took with you what you died with he would do well. He had his knives, and his key was in his hair, and he had his lockpicks, and his tin of salve, and his emergency _cram_ , though it was likely blood-soaked now, and he still had most of the gold and gemstones he'd sewn into the seams of his clothes and knife sheaths in Erebor.  
He would be a rich prize for the rag-pickers.  
He'd done what he said he would. He saw the quest through to the end, and he'd protected his brothers and seen that they were safe, and then he had run away as fast and as far as he could... but it didn't feel the same anymore. There was no joy, no thrill, no _excitement_. There was nothing.  
This, also, was what he'd always said he'd do, dying in an alley.  
Not much longer now.  
Nori had almost _almost_ though he wouldn't go, after the Mountain was reclaimed. There had been an air of celebration in the Mountain after they learned of Smaug's death. Nori had celebrated hard... and repeatedly... in every part of the great city he could find a private corner to get pinned in.  
It had been stupid and dangerous, so dangerous, since he knew he was starting to feel... feel things he was never supposed to feel. It was just so hard to resist, and he'd convinced himself that as long as he kept it _just_ a fuck everything would be ok... even if he did cuddle a little afterward. After Mirkwood it felt _safe_ to do that, to be held. It was just a little cuddling, not enough to make it more than a fuck, really, and it was no more than he'd done in Laketown.  
He had been a fool to think that it would be ok. He knew that now.  
He had thought he could do it, stay in Erebor, stay close to his family... Thorin had pulled him aside and quietly spoken to him of the possibility of working for him as a spy of sorts, and Nori had considered it. Had actually _considered_ going honest. Thorin was a good King, Nori had kept a sharp eye on him, but he had shown no sign of the gold madness that had plagued his grandfather. He walked through the Mountain with a lightness in his step, a smile never far from his lips, and in his shining eyes the great city of Erebor stood restored and thriving, nevermind that they were stuck in a mountain that stank of Dragon with a diminishing supply of _cram_ their only food.  
Thorin filled them all with hope. Thorin was a good King, and Nori had _considered_ going honest for him.  
After the terrible battle, the one Nori heard referred to in tales as the Battle of Five Armies, where Dwarves joined with Elves and Men to defend against Orcs and Goblins. He and his brothers lived, and in fact the entire Company was largely unharmed.  
Nori was not sure he had ever twitched so hard in his life, the fear and the adrenaline leaving him in desperate need. He'd left his things with Ori and gone searching for a fuck.  
He should have gone to Dain's soldiers, surely he could have found a few willing... or Bard's men, there had to have been more than one who would like a taste of Dwarf... even an Elf, even an Elf would have been a smarter choice than what he did.  
He went to Dwalin.  
Nori, laying in the alley with his blood in his hands, felt pain – a deep searing stab all the way through his heart.  
Dwalin. Dwalin. He tried not to even think of the name because the name came with the Dwarf and he was washed away in the memory of those strong arms cradling him, and that perfect deep rumble of a voice, and that warm raw animal scent that said _safe_ even though it was a lie, the cruelest of lies, and he did _not_ wish he had that right now, did _not_ wish he was dying in Dwalin's arms in the scent of _safe_ and that rumbling voice instead of all alone in the garbage of a filthy alley of a city who's name he couldn't even pronounce, so far away from his family.  
There were tears squeezing out of Nori's closed eyelids now, the first, the first he'd had in two years and it didn't matter now because he was dead. He was dead he just wasn't all the way there yet but soon, soon, thank Mahal it would be _over_ soon.  
It was Dwalin's _fault_.  
He had been keyed up, nervous, and he'd gone to Dwalin, half-laughing at himself for it.  
“We lived.” he'd said, sliding himself against that perfect huge muscular body, “You promised me a fuck if we did that...”  
“Aye...” Dwalin had growled down at him, that perfect rumble sparking all the way through him, pulling him in close with big bruising fingers, and Nori had let himself moan.  
Dwalin had grabbed things, bedrolls and any spare blankets he could find, a lantern, and dragged him into the Mountain, into his childhood home that he and Balin had been cleaning and restoring while they were waiting, into his room.  
When the lantern was hung on the wall and the blankets and bedrolls spread on the bed, and the door locked behind them, Dwalin had grabbed him again.  
“Hair?” Dwalin had asked, hardly waiting for Nori's nod before digging his fingers into the strands, still loose from washing out the Goblin blood. He'd moaned, running his fingers through it, pulling Nori's head back, leaning down so their faces were resting together, breath on one another's lips.  
“Kiss me.” Dwalin had said, his voice rough and deep and perfect, and maybe it was the adrenaline of the battle, or that he _so_ desperately needed to get fucked, but instead of turning his face away or, even better, fighting his way free and finding someone _safe_ to fuck, Nori had pressed his lips against those of the giant.  
Dwalin had possessed his mouth, tongue thrusting in hard and fast and it was hot and wild and unlike any kiss Nori had ever had in his life, and he was moaning and his own tongue was in Dwalin's mouth, and then he was being walked backward and pressed down against the bed.  
“I've fucked you...” Dwalin groaned against him, grinding their still-clothed bodies together, “I've fucked you the way you like, so many times... can I have you the way I want?” And it was the kisses fault that Nori ignored the voice of reason screaming in the back of his head and didn't even ask how that _was_ before he was moaning 'yes' and 'please' and reaching for that mouth to kiss deep and hard again.  
The way Dwalin wanted was not a fuck, not 'just a fuck' by any definition of the phrase. He wanted _everything_ and Nori gave it to him, and the only words that made it past his lips were 'yes' and 'more' as he was brought up to the edge of climax over and over again with Dwalin's mouth on him and his fingers inside him, his own hands and mouth occupied with Dwalin's body until he could handle no more and begged to be fucked, begged to finish... and even then Dwalin took him gently and slowly, with his hands everywhere and his mouth kissing everywhere he could reach.  
Nori might still have overcome the screaming voice in the back of his head if Dwalin hadn't, when they were both done and lying curled up together wrung out and limp as rags, said that he _loved_ him.  
That word, that _deadly_ word. It was too much. It was bad enough that Nori felt it, but to hear it said was too much. It was too much and too dangerous and terrifying and Nori ran, which is what he should have done in the first place, before he gave so much that he had sworn he would never give, that _was not safe ever_ to give because _this is what happens_. He grabbed the screaming voice and the unwanted feelings and the panic and he shoved them all _down,_ and he grabbed his clothes and the knives he'd brought with him and he ran, out the window and over the roofs and away and he didn't have a lantern with him but he'd explored enough to know his way through the Mountain in the dark.  
He found Ori sleeping in a tent in the valley and stole his things back from out of his brother's arms, leaving a simple knot of thread to let him know that it was Nori who had them.  
He stole some Elvish waybread.  
He stole a pony.  
He stole a blanket.  
Nori ran as fast and far away as he could, and he stole and fought and fucked and cheated the way he always had, but it wasn't the _same_ anymore. He couldn't feel anything.  
It didn't matter if he stole bigger and flashier things, if he fought more, if he fucked so hard he couldn't _walk_ , if he cheated as blatantly as the sun – he couldn't _feel_ anything. The world was gray-dull and nothing helped and it was Dwalin's fault.  
Dwalin had broken him.  
Everything felt very, very cold now. He couldn't feel his fingers anymore, and he wasn't sure if he could open his eyes if he tried, not that he wanted to.  
He though of Ori, sweet Ori who was so brave on the Quest and in the Battle. He thought of wonderful fussy Dori who could do what was needed when push came to shove. Nori thought that, as last thoughts went, his brothers would be a good one and he tried to hold on to them but the image slipped... He drifted into the warm circle of Dwalin's arms, breathing in the scent of _safe_ and the musk of lust, looking up into those blue eyes that were looking back with the softest expression, big tattooed fingers combing through his hair and a small smile on his lips.  
“Nori... I love you.” He said, a gentle rumble.  
If anyone had been in the alley to see, they might have thought the dying thief's lips moved in the shape of 'I love you too'.  
and then he was still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO! I TOLD YOU NOT TO! 
> 
> Oh jeeze, no, don't cry!  
> Look, you should just go read the ending of Axe again, chapters 23/24... that's the real ending. That's what really happened. Not this.


	7. How was your day?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I received several requests for Bottom!Dwalin/Nori. I was having a hard time coming up with a good scenario for it, so I asked my Tumblr peeps for help. I got a lot of good suggestions, but I went with greenkangaroo's prompt.  
>  _Erebor setting- Dwalin has dealt with idiots all day and just wants to be appreciated and -not have to do anything-, Nori has been swaggering about and is sort of feeling powermad, one things leads to another and they both get what they want._  
>  I hope you all enjoy.  
> SMUT

It had been a good day.  
Nori had started his morning early by breaking into and then out of Erebor's jail and leaving a polite note in Ori's immaculate calligraphy detailing a few of the most obvious weaknesses in its security. The note was rolled up, tied with an elegant knot in the head of security's hair, and left in the most secure cell.  
Nori had not been spotted. It had taken over a month's planning and research, but it would be worth it to knock the smug Dwarf down a few pegs.  
 _teach_ him _to sneer at me  
_ He had then spent some time assisting the King's spies in researching a few merchants they didn't think were quite what they seemed. This involved breaking into their inn room and going through all their things while remaining undetected.  
Turned out the merchants weren't assassins, just counterfeiters.  
They did lovely work, Nori almost felt bad that they'd gotten caught. Didn't stop him from telling the King's spies all about them, though. Let _them_ decide if it was worth involving the guard.  
Then, Nori had taken a leisurely stroll through the market. It was lovely to see the city coming to life, finally. There was still a lot of restoration to do, but more and more Dwarves were flooding into the Mountain by the day. Soon there would be a large enough population to support the shadier types and Nori could relax in seedy taverns and drink bad ale with his own kind. He had managed to keep his name and face mostly unknown. Unlike the other heroes of Erebor, he felt better served by secrecy, and luckily King Dain agreed with him.  
He picked a few pockets to keep in practice, but didn't take anything. He already had a fourteenth of the gold of Erebor. He had so much gold, he _couldn't_ spend it all in his lifetime, no matter how hard he tried. That fact had staggered him for a bit, when he'd realized that he really _had_ survived everything and really _had_ all that gold, and it was _his._ He'd come to terms with it, though. It wasn't something he had to think about, it just meant that anything he broke into, anything he stole, was for fun rather than for work.  
Nori could live with that.  
 _you did it mostly for fun in the first place  
_ He slipped a couple small gold and silver coins into the pocket of a Darrowdam who reminded him of his mother, threadbare but clean and neat and being very patient with her tired and fussy children, a stonemason come to work in the restoration, by the look of her.  
He bought himself some delicious fried meat pies for his dinner and ate them as he walked, licking the savory grease from his fingers... after the lean months right after the reclamation it was wonderful to finally be able to buy good food in the street again.  
Yes, it had been a good day.  
He swaggered his way home as evening fell, sliding silently in through the window, seeing Dwalin sitting on the rug next to the warm hearth.  
Nori let his eyes travel up that broad back, those wide shoulders, those strong arms, then down again tracing the v shape of those huge shoulders to narrow hips.  
He smiled.  
 _oh yes, it's_ more _than time you got yourself a taste of that..._  
It had been a good day, and it was just about to get better.

 It had been a terrible day.  
Dwalin had woken up to a cold bed with Nori nowhere to be found, and then Balin had informed him that there was no way he was getting out of diplomatic meetings at Court, and he'd been forced to stand around making polite faces while fussy old Iron Hills Nobles argued with fussy old Blue Mountain Nobles and King Dain tried to keep peace. He folded his arms and stood behind Balin and let his brother do all the talking, but it was still exhausting.  
When he'd _finally_ been released from that, he'd been recruited to help arrest some counterfeiters because apparently the head of security for Erebor's jail was having some sort of emotional breakdown. He didn't actually mind, he looked forward to cracking a few heads to work out the frustration of the morning... the problem was that the counterfeiters scattered, and he'd given chase and caught them.  
 _of course I caught them, they're not in the same_ league _as Nori  
_ And that also wasn't the problem. The problem was that he'd caught _two_ of them, and one of them had had to be slammed against the wall firmly several times before he calmed down and cooperated, and Dwalin had to use his left arm for it.  
The left arm who's shoulder had been smashed through by an orc spear not so long ago.  
Apparently, picking up full-grown Dwarves and slamming them against walls one-armed was what Oin called 'overdoing it a little'.  
It hurt.  
Once he'd finally gotten the counterfeiters to jail, he went to find Oin. Unfortunately, Oin was at Court, and after the deaf healer had assured Dwalin that his arm _wasn't_ going to fall off, though it felt like it, he tried to sneak away. Unfortunately, he didn't have Nori's skill and he was spotted and could not excuse himself. There was no way he could avoid the dinner invitation without being unforgivably rude, and Balin's look assured him that he'd better not do it anyway. He was forced to listen the the fussy old Nobles' passive-aggressive squabbles all through the meal, which took far too long and had far too many small courses instead of one good big one.  
Nori was still nowhere to be found when he got home.  
He took a light dose of willowbark in water for his arm and sat on the warg-skin rug in front of the hearth, waiting for it to kick in.  
It had been a terrible day.  
He just wanted... he just wanted Nori to take care of him. Dwalin couldn't have asked for a better caretaker when he was recovering from his wound. He didn't need help with things anymore, but whenever he overdid things and hurt himself he just wanted Nori's arms holding him, and Nori's gentle hands soothing him. He just wanted to relax and have Nori kiss away the memory of being stuck at Court with the smug old Nobles sneering at him for being the muscle-brained second son who married some unknown commoner and cared more for weapons than politics.  
Unfortunately, Nori was not at home. There was no telling when he might choose to come home... whether it be hours or days or, possibly, weeks.  
 _just like Dori warned me, he wanders, and comes and goes as he pleases, and is just generally unpredictable_  
He sighed heavily, rubbing his aching shoulder.  
It had been a terrible day, and it didn't look like it would be getting better any time soon.

 Nori stepped lightly, barely breathing as he crept behind Dwalin, sliding his hand under the one rubbing Dwalin's shoulder.  
His giant jumped, cursing at him for sneaking up, and Nori laughed, kneeling behind his sitting giant, kissing the bald top of his head and rubbing his tense shoulders.  
Dwalin groaned, relaxing into the touch, and Nori kept at it for a while, enjoying the feel of those big muscles softening under his hands before he spread his knees, sinking lower as he straddled the back of his giant, pressing close, moaning lightly into Dwalin's ear as he nibbled gently up it. He brushed Dwalin's hair to the side, nipping at the warm skin of his neck with his teeth, reaching around his giant to begin to unfasten all his straps and buckles.  
 _oh yes  
get him warm and relaxed and naked and find out what kind of moans he makes when he's on the _ other _side of things...  
_ “Nori...” Dwalin shifted slightly away, tone slightly uncomfortable, and Nori paused everything he was doing. “I'm not feeling up to doing...”  
Nori chuckled, pulling himself in tighter to Dwalin's broad back, snaking one hand around to grab his arse and give a firm squeeze.  
“Who said you would be the one _doing?_ ” he purred, giving his hips a little grind against Dwalin's back, which Dwalin generally had a positive reaction to.  
 _please want this please want this please want this  
you talked about doing it someday, please let him want to do it today  
_ Dwalin made a sound in his throat, low and hungry as he pressed back against Nori, and Nori grinned as he resumed the task of removing Dwalin's clothes, taking care to drag his fingertips across Dwalin's nipples and groin as much as possible in the process, squeezing his arse when he could, his touches teasing-light but present, enjoying how Dwalin pushed into the attention, low humming moans in his throat.  
Nori threw aside Dwalin's shirt, finally getting his hands on all that warm skin, wrapping his arms tight around his giant, growling as he bit along Dwalin's right shoulder, pressing his hips hard against him, searching for friction.  
 _yes yes yes  
he's going to be so good  
so big and so strong and _ yours  
 _letting you have him,  
and you can spread him out on the rug, trembling and sweating, and feel him squeezing around you and watch his face while he moans your name...  
_ Nori moaned at the thought, the fingers of one hand running light light circles against Dwalin's sensitive pierced nipple, his other hand unlacing the giant's pants to cup his growing erection through the fabric.  
“I... I...” Dwalin tried, and Nori increased the pressure with both hands, enjoying how Dwalin's muscles jumped, pressing him into the pleasure, and the guttural moan that stopped his words... but then he had mercy and stopped completely, removing his hands to less sensitive regions of Dwalin's body.  
“Yes?” he asked brightly, while Dwalin let out an involuntary whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.  
“...fuck you.” he groaned.  
“mmm... not today.” Nori said, still waiting for whatever Dwalin had been trying to say. His giant pulled himself together with a deep breath before he spoke, his words coming out quick and nervous.  
“I don't... I don't like it rough, like you... I've _not_ done it often and I... I _liked_ it but...”  
Nori ran his hands gently, soothingly, over his giant, rubbed his cheek against Dwalin's shoulder.  
“I can be gentle.” he said, quietly.  
 _of course he's nervous  
why wouldn't he assume you like to fuck the same way you like to be fucked?  
 rough can be good, it can be _ very _good, but it's no good for you unless it's good for him  
_ “tell me how you like it... anyway you like it, that's how I want it...” he added.  
Dwalin wasn't relaxing back against him.  
“we can do other things... or nothing...” He added.  
 _what did you do wrong? He's not reacting right...  
...fuck  
_ Nori made to pull away, to give Dwalin space, but Dwalin caught his arms before he could let go.  
“Three.” Dwalin said, quietly.  
“...three..?” Nori didn't understand.  
“Three times I've... “ Dwalin made a vague gesture.  
 _oh!  
...always forget he's practically a virgin  
if he's only been fucked three times he doesn't even _ know _how he likes it  
start gentle, as slow and gentle as possible, and see it from there  
not too big a change of plans...  
that is, if he wants to  
_ “Let me go get a blanket.” Nori said, nuzzling against Dwalin's neck affectionately, then slipped away, unbraiding his hair and pulling the pieces of his key out of it as soon as he was out of sight.  
 _make him as comfortable as possible_  
 _do some of his favorite things_  
 _and then fuck him and figure out how he likes it_

 Nori's hair was down and he was naked when he returned with a blanket, which he spread on the rug, encouraging Dwalin to lay on it, laying on top of him to kiss, not pushing for more than kissing, his lips soft. He kept his weight to the right of Dwalin's body, keeping it off his sore shoulder. Dwalin was glad Nori hadn't felt the need to laugh at the pitifully low number of times he'd ever been fucked.  
 _he was fucked more than three times before he was fifty, and here I am at a hundred and seventy...  
_ Dwalin ran the fingers of his right hand through that soft red-brown hair, spreading it in a curtain around them, leaving his left hand down to his side where it hurt less. His thief's hazel eyes smiled down at him as they kissed.  
 _he's waiting for me  
he wants to know what I want to do, and I _ do _want him to fuck me  
I have wanted him to fuck me, but I wasn't sure how to ask...  
it was good before, but imagine being fucked by someone who knows so well what it's like, what feels good...  
he said he'd be gentle  
it'll be worth it, it'll be worth the ache later  
_ Dwalin nodded, “I want you to.” he said, felt Nori's body tense in anticipation as he drew in a sharp breath, his eyes glowing as he pressed in for another kiss, harder and deeper this time, and Dwalin relaxed into it, Nori's strong lean body pressing down onto him, a little rough growl under his breath, one hand running up Dwalin's torso to circle his thumb across his nipple, light, teasing pleasure that spread slowly through him.  
Nori moved his hair to one side, winding it into a thick rope, sliding himself down Dwalin's body, using the ends of his hair to brush his skin, raising goosebumps. He breathed out, a hot exhalation against Dwalin's chest, following it with light sucking kisses spiraling in toward his nipple – he groaned into the warm gentle pleasure when Nori finally arrived, his body arching toward it involuntarily, and his thief chuckled lightly.  
“...you're so sensitive...” he murmured appreciatively, breath warm as his lips brushed against the pebble-hard peak, kissing his way toward the other, switching his hair to the opposite side to continue teasing.  
“love the sounds you make...” he continued as Dwalin moaned into the soft lips teasing his pierced nipple, tongue flicking through the ring to pull lightly, a sharply indrawn breath bringing a wash of cold air over it, a shiver passing through Dwalin's whole body.  
“going to love fucking you, hearing you moan and watching your face when you're too far gone to know your own name...” Nori murmured, and Dwalin's body arched up at his words, arousal glowing warm through him.  
 _Aule give me strength, he knows exactly what to say...  
_ Nori was moving further down Dwalin's body again, quick hands divesting him of his pants, leaving him as naked as his thief, and Nori was kneeling between his legs, lifting one of his knees to begin kissing up the inside of his thigh, bright hazel eyes watching him, hands running up his legs, up his sides, down his stomach, skirting around before finally taking his erection in both hands, pressure light enough to be no more than a tease, whispering softly up and down.  
Nori's mouth had reached the juncture of Dwalin's thigh and he pulled back, lifting Dwalin's second knee and starting over again, but not before ghosting a breath of warm air across his erection.  
 _more... more...  
damn tease, he's going to kill me before he gets down to it...  
_ “Nori...” Dwalin groaned, pressing his hips up, asking for _more.  
_ His thief answered in a small moan, “are you going to say my name like that while I'm all the way inside you, and you can't even _think_ for the pleasure..?” his voice was rough with passion, his words punctuated by kisses as his thief worked his way up Dwalin's thigh, a hot streak of pleasure rolled through him, his erection jumping in Nori's hand and his thief gave it a light squeeze in return, laughing breathlessly.  
“...fuck, Nori...” Dwalin moaned.  
 _please, I just want... I just want... I just need...  
_ “Fuck _Dwalin_ ,” Nori corrected, and now finally he'd kissed his way all the way up Dwalin's second thigh and his mouth was just above his erection, breath warm on it but his lips not touching yet, one hand slid down his erection to gently gently cup his stones, rolling them lightly.  
Dwalin tensed instinctively, whimpering, but the touch remained soft, affectionate, and he relaxed into it... his trust rewarded with the heat of Nori's mouth finally engulfing him, slick and warm and Nori's quick clever tongue flicking here and there.  
 _so good, he's so good at that...  
_ “oooh... yes...” Dwalin groaned, reaching down instinctively to pet Nori's head, catching himself just before he touched, remembering that his thief didn't like that while he sucked, taking the end of his hair in his fingers instead, rubbing the silken strands as he wallowed in the tight heat of Nori's mouth.  
Nori's fingers slid down from Dwalin's stones, hovering along his cleft, and his thief pulled his mouth off of Dwalin's erection with a final athletic swirl of his tongue that had Dwalin trembling, breath catching in his throat.  
“Can I...” Nori asked, pressing his fingers slightly inward, and Dwalin moaned, spreading his legs wider.  
“ _please,_ yes.”  
Nori's hand darted away, digging under a corner of the blanket to pull out the salve tin  
 _when did that get there?  
_ flicking the lid off with his thumb and heavily greasing his fingers as his mouth returned it's attentions to Dwalin's erection, a slow leisurely suck, punctuated by moans who's vibrations sparked clear through Dwalin's core. His thief's fingers returned, slick and warm, rubbing lightly, a hot curl of pleasure running up his spine, through his groin. His eyes closed as he groaned, head thrown back as his body arched, legs shaking.  
 _yes yes yes  
so good  
so long since anyone...  
_ Nori pressed his smallest finger inside, so smoothly and gradually that Dwalin hardly knew it was there until he gave it a small wiggle, a caress of intense pleasure from the inside.  
“Nori!” Dwalin gasped, and his thief hummed appreciatively against his erection, the slicked little finger sliding smoothly in and out, Dwalin's fingers clenching on the silky end of Nori's hair.  
His thief traded the smallest finger for the next, twisting the finger slowly around, humming again as Dwalin moaned, and then slowly, slowly pressing inward with both together.  
Dwalin's breath caught in stuttering groans, feeling the slight stretch, heat and pleasure radiating outward as he pressed back into it.  
“y'so good, so _good_ Nori...”  
Nori released his erection for a moment, lips brushing it as his breath washed hot over the sensitive skin, “...could finish just listening to the sounds you make, watching you move...” His voice was ragged, and he licked two broad stripes up the sides of Dwalin's erection before he took it back into his mouth, slow and steady and warm and smooth, his fingers never stopping their slow slick incursion.  
Dwalin moaned and shuddered his way through the growing pleasure as Nori explored him with two fingers, finding the sweet spot but refusing to give it more than the most indirect stimulation, occasionally pausing to get more salve, more salve than they'd ever used with Nori, he was sure – everything perfectly slick and smooth.  
Nori switched briefly to his two middle fingers before reintroducing his smallest, slowly, slowly pressing the new girth inside, Dwalin's body adjusting to the stretch more easily than he would have imagined, with no stinging, no sharpness, nothing but the warm waves of pleasure radiating from everything Nori touched.  
His thief didn't seem to be in any hurry to move on, answering Dwalin's moans with humming ones of his own against his erection.  
 _why have we not done this before?  
so good  
always so good with his hands, should have known he'd be good with them like this too  
clever mouth _ always _so good  
_ Nori curled his fingers up, rubbing whisper-soft on the sweet spot, running his tongue around the head of Dwalin's erection – pleasure spiking hard through him.  
 _oh yes, oh yes  
so close...  
just a little more...  
_ Nori eased off, mouth disappearing from his erection, fingers uncurling, hand holding his hip still when Dwalin would have ground himself down on his hand.  
“Are you ready? Do you still want...” Nori's voice was breathless against Dwalin's thigh.  
 _am I ready for him to fuck me?  
do I still want him inside?  
_ Dwalin let go of Nori's hair, grabbing his shoulder to pull his thief in, get him as close as possible.  
“ _Please_ , yes, Nori please...”

 Dwalin was fucking _perfect.  
_ He was all teeth and growling groans, rough and wild and _perfect_ when he was the one fucking Nori... but here, being fucked by Nori, he was different. He lay sprawled across the blanket-covered rug underneath Nori, powerful legs around his hips, pulling him close, eyes closed and his head thrown back as he rocked into the pleasure, sweat drenched and trembling and making the most delicious low moans with every breath – when he wasn't babbling iterations of Nori's name and blasphemy.  
He couldn't _get_ more perfect.  
Nori rested his forehead on Dwalin's chest, breathing in the musk of sweat and lust, feeling the rumble of those helpless moans that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his giant's body as he slowly slowly pushed his way back into slick tight heat, soft and enveloping and, and...  
just Mahal-damned _perfect.  
yours  
your Dwalin  
your perfect wonderful Dwalin who is _ yours  
 _yours to pleasure, yours to make moan and curse  
he's big and strong and you can do this to him, can turn him into this  
yours  
_ He was sensitive, to, very sensitive... he clenched down tight on Nori with a breathless whimper as his slow stroke finally found the sweet spot, dragging gently across it.  
 _you can probably get him to finish from just that...  
_ Nori kept a firm grip on Dwalin's left wrist, keeping his arm pinned to the blanket so that Dwalin didn't forget and try to move it again – there was no place for pain, not in this fuck. Dwalin's right arm had been thrown above his head, but he reached down, petting Nori's head again, digging his fingers into Nori's hair.  
“there... there, _more_...” Dwalin gasped.  
“...faster?” Nori asked, receiving in answer a desperate noise that, while it contained no words, he could only interpret as affirmative.  
Nori picked up his pace, but just slightly, listening to the hungry noises his giant made, answering them with his own moans.  
“more...” Dwalin groaned again, fingers clenching rhythmically in Nori's hair, soft little pulls on his scalp, and he moved to match his pace to it.  
“oh...” Dwalin's breath puffed out of him, his entire body tensing, “oh Nori... oh.. oh.. OH!”  
 _yes!  
here it comes  
you've got him  
_ Nori lifted his forehead from Dwalin's chest to watch, holding onto his giant for dear life, trying to maintain his pace as Dwalin's entire body bucked, big powerful muscles clenching and trembling, pulling Nori in and threatening to throw him off at the same time, Dwalin's mouth thrown open wide in an ascending moan rising almost to a shout as he spent between them.  
 _yes.. yes...  
you've done this, you've done this to him  
so good, so tight, so big, so strong...  
_ Dwalin was clenching down tight on him, hot and vice-hard and slick, so perfect... Nori could feel the tension growing in his back and legs, moaned desperately as he pushed for that last little bit... just that little more he needed...  
 _so close so close so close please...  
_ Dwalin had opened his eyes, staring up at Nori with pleasure and disbelief, and his fingers had closed on Nori's hair, a sharp pull with another helpless groaning of his name and it was enough, Nori fell against his giant, the pleasure crashing around him as he spent into the soft heat, Dwalin's legs around him, holding him in close as he shook through his climax.  
 _mmm..._  
 _...yes..._  
 _he's so, fucking, perfect_  
He nuzzled his face into Dwalin's chest, resting, not caring about the sweat, or Dwalin's seed that would be getting all over him. They could bathe later, the plumbing had finally been restored to this part of the Mountain. He reached over and grabbed a corner of the blanket, pulling it over them.  
It had been a good day.  
It could not have been better.

 Dwalin wrapped his arms around his thief, smiling as they both lay wrapped in the blanket.  
It had been a _revelation_ , to say the least.  
Nothing hurt anywhere, there was no ache, no soreness beyond a slight tenderness that was more awareness than anything else. It had been _all_ pleasure, nothing like the good but mixed sensation of his past experimentations.  
 _should have gotten myself fucked by an expert in the first place  
he is _ too _damn good at that...  
_ It _had_ been a terrible day, but not anymore.  
He had Nori.  
Nori made everything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art that I may or may not have spent an indecent amount of time staring at:  
> http://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/post/46413540007/illputanarrowinyoureye-chapter-12-axe-omakes


	8. lost puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the happy ending for Nethanu, who appears in chapter 16 of _Axe to my throat_  
>  Read this chapter. The other chapter never happened. Never happened.

There was an Elf crying on the doorstep. Being an Elf, he managed to look poised and distant as he did so, but there was no denying that there was an Elf sitting on the doorstep with his shoulders shaking and tears rolling quietly down his carved-porcelain face. He was clearly young, and a little short for an Elf, with long dark hair that had little curl to it... a servant with the Mirkwood ambassadors, no doubt, since he wasn't dressed as ostentatiously as the ambassadors themselves.  
“Can I help you?” Dori said, coolly.  
The Elf jumped at his voice, big startled eyes staring up at him, then the Elf hunched his shoulders, turning away, looking very very small for someone so tall.  
“You're the one who always said 'thank you'” the Elf said... and then Dori recognized him. One of the Elves who'd brought him food when he'd been a prisoner of the Elf King.  
“Are you lost?” Dori asked, and the Elf shook his head, tears still running down his cheeks.  
“I came to look for him, but he isn't _him_ , he was so gentle and _kind_ , but now he's all sharp angles and... and _knives_ in his smile and _he didn't even notice me_.” the Elf put his hands over his face as his shoulders shook.  
“Who.” Dori asked, knowing the answer before the Elf answered in one of Nori's favorite pseudonyms.  
Dori sat down beside the Elf with a sigh. “Tell me what he did this time...”

Dori sat at his kitchen table with an Elf attached to him. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but what had been intended as a comforting pat on the back had turned into a hug as the Elf curled up into his chest and sobbed on him as though he'd never been offered a kind touch in his life... but then again, maybe he hadn't. Dori had certainly never seen Elves being affectionate.  
Rather than stay on the street to be stared at, Dori had invited the Elf in for tea.  
It really couldn't be comfortable for the Elf, in the too-short house, with the too-short chair and too-short table, and leaning over to lay his head on too-short Dori's chest, but Dori petted his back and the story of what Nori had done this time poured out in jumbled bursts.  
Dori was furious.  
Yes, he understood that Nori had simply been trying to get information, and Dori could appreciate that Nori's information had lead to their escape, but that was no reason to have hurt a sweet lonely child. There had to have been another way, but Nori had hurt Nethanu instead. Really, as much as he loved his brother, he didn't know _how_ Nori had managed to get so far in life with only the most rudementary vestiges of a concience.  
Not to mention what the _other_ Dwarves had been doing. Dori had thought that they would all understand that there was nothing to be gained by frightening or insulting or attempting to injure the servants bringing them food, but apparently he was the only one. The Elf had been shouted at, spat upon, and had things thrown at his head as he tried to feed the prisoners... all of which left lonely little Nethanu in an emotionally vulnerable position that had only made it easier for Nori to weasel his way into the Elf's affections.  
Nethanu, once he got talking, did not stop. Confessing deep dark and embarrassing secrets about how he had allowed Nori to accidentally touch his ears, and he really should have told him to stop but he didn't.  
“Nori knew exactly what he was doing to you.” Dori assured him, “Every single thing he did he did on purpose.”  
He tried to explain to the young Elf about his brother, that Nori had made something of a profession of breaking out of jail, and that everything that passed between them had been just a tool Nori was using to gather information.  
“But he was so kind.” the Elf protested, and Dori tried to explain that Nori had done _nothing_ for Nethanu.  
It was finally, when the Elf brought out the knots Nori had made for him, that Dori was able to make him understand.  
“This is all you.” Dori said. “He never gave you _anything_ of himself, not even his real name.” and Nethanu had collapsed in tears against Dori's chest again.  
Dori petted the poor little thing's back and wondered what to do.  
That was when Nori came home, and Dwalin with him, by the sound of it. He placed a finger on his lips and gestured for the Elf to listen. Nethanu sat up, face lighting up as he heard Nori's voice, and then falling as he heard what was being discussed.  
It seemed Nori and Dwalin's work today had included beating someone up, and now they were laughing about it... and then Nori was lewdly propositioning Dwalin. Dori's hopes that marriage to the guardsman would steady his brother had thus far not materialized.  
That aside, their conversation was the perfect way to disabuse Nethanu of the notion that Nori was _nice -_ clever, resourceful, and wonderful to have on your side in a fight, but not _nice._ The Elf had crumpled back against Dori's chest by the time Nori sauntered his way into the kitchen.  
Dori watched the emotions flicker across Nori's face as he was surprised to see an Elf crying on his brother, shock as he recognized the Elf, fear as he recognized the anger on Dori's face as he petted the Elf's back, decided he would like to keep his limbs in their sockets for a _little_ while longer, chose which exit was closest, and in two quick bounds was out the kitchen window and away.  
Nethanu gasped in shock at Nori's sudden disappearance, but then he saw Dwalin, who was just as surprised by Nori's actions, and cowered away into Dori with a high-pitched whimper of pure fear.  
“Dwalin.” Dori said, evenly, “you are going to apologize to Nethanu here for spitting at him and throwing things at his head when he was _trying to feed you_ as he had been _ordered to do_... and then you are going to hunt down my brother and drag him back to me even if you have to knock him out to do so, am I understood?”  
“Catch Nori?” Dwalin said, uncomfortably, gesturing at his injured shoulder, his arm in a sling. “But I'm... my arm...” Even a year after the Battle of Five Armies, he was still in the process of healing. Oin often put it up in a sling when he'd been overdoing it. It would be a while still before he had full use of it.  
“Would you like a matched set?” Dori asked, smiling.  
“No.” Dwalin said, turning to go.  
Dori coughed politely, and Dwalin stopped.  
“the apology, first... and try to make it believable.”

Nethanu seemed to have decided that Dori was some sort of wizard after he made Dwalin apologize. He stared at Dori as though he might sprout wings next.  
At least he wasn't still crying or clinging.  
He sipped his tea and complimented Dori on the blend. He nibbled the tarts Dori had made and complimented him on the recipe.  
They had a short discussion on the merits of various fats for pie crust. Dori maintained that butter made the best and flakiest crust, but Nethanu contended that nothing beat the crisp crunch of an oil crust.  
Eventually, it was time for Dori to go to work. He didn't really _have_ to, owning a fourteenth of the gold of Erebor and all that, but he found it balanced him.  
It was a simple thing, really, just a little tea shop, open for the evening crowd. Dwarves would come by to sample teas from all over Middle Earth, to chat and have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening. Dori was not shy about forcibly ejecting anyone who disturbed the atmosphere.  
Somehow, the Elf came with him, followed him like a lost puppy.  
Dori gave a few pointed looks to the regulars as they came in, and no one mentioned the Elf.  
Nethanu was thrilled with the tea shop, exclaimed over all the different teas, and somehow had ended up wearing an apron that didn't fit him right at all as he gathered up empty cups and did the dishes, though the sink was at an extremely awkward height for him.  
Dwalin came in halfway through the evening, looking exhausted and as though he had probably fortified himself with a pint or two of ale before he came in to talk to Dori.  
Nori was not with him.  
Nori had, somehow, gotten himself assigned to some sort of reconnaissance mission or other and had been sent away, by order of King Dain himself, for six months.  
Dori had a feeling Nori had set something up in advance, just waiting to need it.  
Dori graciously decided to let Dwalin keep his limbs in their sockets, the poor warrior looked heartbroken enough that Nori had left without even saying goodbye.  
There would be plenty of time to deal with Nori when he came back.

The next day somehow found Nethanu in the tea shop again. He had brought a tray of tarts to try to convince Dori of the superiority of an oil crust, and Dori had to admit that it was a very good crust.  
Butter crust was still better though.  
Nethanu had brought his own apron, and even exchanged pleasantries with a few bemused regulars as he gathered up dirty cups.

The next day Nethanu was in the tea shop again. He'd brought some flower petals which he brewed into a sweetly fragrant tea that Dori had never had before. They discussed what to mix them with, making up two new blends for the shop.  
Nethanu smiled as he gathered up cups and did the dishes, and Dori noticed how the young Elf glowed every time someone said something nice to him.  
(and no one dared say anything not-nice. Not in _Dori's_ tea shop.)  
Dori decided that he needed to introduce Nethanu to someone. Someone as sweet as Nori had pretended to be... maybe one of Ori's scribe friends?

As the regulars warmed up to Nethanu, Dori noticed how the Elf responded to every casual touch as though it were precious, as though he were starving.  
Dori didn't know how the poor thing had survived among distant, cold-blooded Elves for so long. Clearly physically affectionate Dwarves were much better for him to be around.  
Dori tried to decide which of Ori's scribe friends to introduce Nethanu to, but none of them seemed quite right. Maybe one of Bombur's cook friends would be better? Someone Nethanu could argue baking with...

The next week, Dori found himself talking to a mechanically-minded dwarf about adjustable-height sinks. The Dwarf thought it was an interesting challenge.  
The next week, Dori's tea-shop had a sink that could go from Dwarf-height to Elf-height with the turn of a wheel.  
Nethanu smiled so hard it seemed like his face would break in two when he saw it. He touched a finger to his lips and pressed it to Dori's cheek.  
Eventually Dori discovered that a big soft cushion was the key to making an Elf comfortable in a Dwarf building. Sitting on a cushion they didn't have to deal with incorrectly-sized furniture, and it was far easier for them to make friends once they no longer towered over everyone.  
No one in the tea shop mentioned the fact that there was now a cushion in the corner of the shop that was designated for Nethanu.  
No one needed to know that, after closing time, Nethanu and Dori would have tea in the corner of the shop and argue about tea blends and baking.  
No one needed to know that there was also a cushion in Dori's kitchen, where similar things happened.

When Nori got back into Erebor the first thing he did was hunt down Dwalin and get himself pinned against the nearest convenient wall.  
With that thoroughly taken care of, he thought he might go report his findings to the King, but Dwalin told him no, there was something more important he needed to see.  
He wouldn't say what it was.  
He said that Nori wouldn't believe it unless he saw it.  
He led Nori to Dori's tea shop.  
Peeking into the tea shop, Nori could see Dori, his long white hair brushed and oiled around his head in a sheet as smooth as an Elf's. Beside him, was that Mirkwood Elf, the gullible kid who's name Nori couldn't quite remember, who's dark hair was braided up like a Dwarf's.  
As he watched in shock, the Elf kissed a finger and brushed it tenderly against Dori's cheek, right there in front of the customers and everything.  
Dori looked up at the Elf, eyes glowing with affection, caught the finger to press his own lips to it.  
Nori grabbed Dwalin by the arm.  
“Drink.” he said, hoarsely, “Now.”  
“I figured.” Dwalin said, putting an arm around the lean Dwarf, “let's go to that awful tavern you like over on Basalt street...”  
“Dori's going to kill me.” he whispered.  
“Aye.” Dwalin agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with Art!  
> [Nethanu and Dori by mia-newarcher](http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/image/45157679735)
> 
> http://linklings.tumblr.com/post/94817192774/nethanu-the-precious-ugly-elf-baby-on-his-first
> 
> Also, GreenKangaroo wrote an ending for them that I am completely in love with.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/680611/chapters/1378354


	9. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori has to come to terms with his brother's relationship with Nethanu, the Mirkwood Elf whos affections Nori manipulated to gather information while the Company were imprisoned.

Nethanu might have thought that the Dwarf who's name he now knew was Nori wasn't _really_ in Erebor, but he did tend to catch glimpses of him, now and then – typically a flash of red-brown hair disappearing out the window when he came to visit Dori at home or Ori in the library – once, they made eye contact as Dori grabbed ahold of Nori to keep him from fleeing, but a brief instant later Dori was holding nothing but a jacket and Nori was gone.

It upset Dori more than it did Nethanu, which is why Nethanu found himself waiting on a rooftop to ambush Nori. But he didn't want to think of it as an _ambush_ , really, since his intentions were not harmful.

Nethanu was right in his guess that this roofline would be Nori's chosen pathway, he was swaggering along as though he owned it, and despite everything Nethanu did feel a small pinch in his heart. He knew that Nori was not the Dwarf he'd spent those weeks with, but he _looked_ like him, just like the kind Dwarf who'd opened his eyes to the warmth beauty of Dwarves.

“Hello.” He said, stepping out of the shadows, and he saw a dozen different escape plans in Nori's eyes as he took a quick step back, tensing.

“I brought tea...” he said, holding out the basket he'd been waiting with, and he watched Nori give up, sighing as his shoulders slumped.

 

Nori had led him to 'someplace more comfortable' to talk, which turned out to be a half-crumbling wall that was wide enough to sit on.

Nethanu set the tea out between them, little jelly-filled rolls and two teacups which he filled from a thermos one of the teashop regulars had made for him. It was an ingenious device, and very useful.

“I already apologized to you.” Nori said, “I'm not doing it again.”

“The knot.” Nethanu nodded, sipping his tea. Nori picked his teacup up and raised it to his lips, but did not actually drink unless Nethanu was mistaken.

“I was a _prisoner_.” Nori said, “My _family_ were imprisoned. I did what I had to do to get them free. I'd do it again, and more.”

“I know.” Nethanu said. Nori really _wasn't_ the Dwarf he'd known, there was nothing _shy_ or gentle about him.

“Then there's nothing to talk about, is there.” He said, looking out across the city of Erebor. Nothing to talk about, with the Dwarf he'd spent hours upon hours just talking with... but that hadn't really been talking. That had been interrogation through feigned affection. It hadn't been _real_ , not... not like what he had with Dori now. Dori was the reason he had sought Nori out here in the first place, even though it stung, even after all this time.

“It hurts Dori.” Nethanu said, watching a flicker of surprise on Nori's face. “He's afraid he's losing you again, when he'd only just gotten you back.”

Nori pretended to sip his tea again, looking away.

“You don't have to... to _like_ me, but if you could... for Dori...” Nethanu stopped, biting his lip. He'd _promised_ himself he wouldn't cry, that he would do this like the adult he was, but what chance did he have if Nori didn't even trust that he hadn't poisoned the tea?

“Fuck.” Nori said, not with any bitterness, flopping back on the top of the wall, his head hanging off one side while his feet hung off the other side.

“You're not going to wake up one morning pining for the forests, are you?” Nori asked hopefully.

“No.” Nethanu said, discreetly wiping his eyes with the corner of his sleeve.

“You love him.” Nori said, resignation clear in his voice.

“So much.” Nethanu said, quietly. No one had ever been like Dori, and he could not imagine a world where he did not have cuddles and tea and Dori's sure warm hands braiding his hair.

“Fuck.” Nori said again.

They sat in silence for a while... or, Nethanu sat and Nori lay across the wall. At least he wasn't _leaving_ , so that gave Nethanu hope.

“So, you and my brother are...” Nori made hand gestures that were only marginally vague.

“That's _private_.” Nethanu said, he could feel himself blushing bright red. He sipped at his tea to try to cover himself.

Nori snorted in what could have been a short laugh, flipping himself to his feet. “I might come to dinner sometimes.” he said, starting to pick his way across the half-broken wall.

Nethanu reached after him, “Wait?” He asked, and Nori paused, looking back at him with his braided eyebrows raised.

“If... If I were to ask you for permission to... to formally court Dori...” he ventured.

“No.” Nethanu flinched back from the firm negative, and Nori continued.

“I don't _own_ Dori.” he said, “I didn't need his permission to court or marry, and he doesn't need mine.” He turned away.

“Not sure why you _need_ courting, he's already marked you family with those braids.”

Nethanu reached up to his head in surprise, touching the beautiful braids Dori had given him, and when he looked back Nori had disappeared... leaving Nethanu's peace offering of jelly-filled rolls and tea completely untouched, and after all the work he'd gone to to make it all perfect.

Still, it could have gone much worse.

 

Dori froze as Nori sauntered into the kitchen unannounced, torn between the desire to grab him to keep him from fleeing and not wanting to alert his brother to the fact that Nethanu was there.

“I hope you have enough food.” Nori said, “Dwalin's going to be here soon. He's been busting heads with the guard so he's hungry.” He glanced toward the cushion in the corner where Nethanu was reclining with a book, giving a little wave. Nethanu nodded back, not quite looking up from his book, and Nori rested a hand on Dori's shoulder as he peered around him to look at the stove.

“That's not nearly enough food.” He said, “And what's with all the green stuff?”

Dori unfroze himself, smacking Nori's hand off his shoulder, “There would _be_ enough if you'd told me in advance you were coming! Nethanu, can you help?” Dori tried to think what he could quickly throw together to stretch the food over both Nori and Dwalin's appetites, pausing in his rummaging through the cabinets to admire the graceful way Nethanu lifted himself to his feet. He had no idea what might have caused Nori to stop being childish about Nethanu, but he was certainly not going to make a big deal about what Nori should have been doing from the beginning.

“Mashed potatoes?” Nethanu suggested, ghosting an affectionate caress to his back. Dori caught his fingers and gave them a squeeze.

“With roasted garlic?” Dori said, smiling, reaching into the low cabinet where it was not easy for Nethanu to get to things, pulling the bag of potatoes out. Nethanu immediately set to washing them while Dori trimmed a head of garlic and threw it in the oven.

Nori picked at his nails with a knife, sitting with his boots on the table as he watched.

 

Nori lay against Dwalin and watched his brother and the Elf work around one another through the tea shop. For the first few years he had expected either the Elf or Dori to come to their senses and have done with it, but it was very clear that wasn't going to happen. He'd known, really, that it wouldn't happen, but he could _hope._ He watched the little touches that passed between them, the worshipful way Nethanu looked at Dori, the tender way Dori looked at Nethanu.

Dori was happy, happier than Nori had ever seen him.

Dori didn't care what anyone thought about him taking up with an Elf, and no one was willing to say anything to his face... he was, after all, the strongest Dwarf in Erebor. Being fantastically wealthy and having a fair amount of political clout also didn't hurt.

Nethanu had friends among the tea shop regulars, too, who would tease and joke with him, even some he would greet by bending down-down-down to knock foreheads with. They treated him as though he were just a tall skinny Dwarf, and, really, wasn't that what Dori had marked him as, with those braids? Braids normally used for adopted family, and Dori had had Dwarf-style clothes commissioned for him so he would have fit in just fine if he weren't so tall.

Nori had seen enough to know that Nethanu was near-shunned by his own kind, since he had _chosen_ to live in the Mountain permanently, the resident Elvish cook for any Mirkwood or Lothlorien or Rivendell ambassadors. They sneered at the little cook, with his Dwarven clothes and braids, but Nethanu sailed through it unphased, always full of smiles when he was working in the tea shop or at home with Dori.

And Dori was happy.

Nethanu was laughing with a miner, who elbowed him, and Nethanu shoved him back... casual, easy interactions. Nethanu had been accepted by the Dwarves of Erebor, and he was happy, and Dori was happy.

And if Dori truly was happy, and Nethanu truly was what he wanted, then Nori could accept that.

Nori sighed, finishing his tea. Dwalin's arm tightened around him, and he nodded. It was time for him to go. He and Dwalin had someone to protect, so Nori had to disappear. He and Dwalin had said their goodbyes at home, this last stop at the tea shop had to look casual.

Nori gave Dwalin a brief kiss, then sauntered out, pausing to give Dori a hug, which Dori protested, since he was busy working.

Dori would appreciate that he'd said goodbye when he realized that Nori was gone again.

 

A package arrived in Erebor, tied with beautiful knots, addressed only to “the Company”. The Company convened at Gloin's house, the gathering having an air of celebration. Nori's care packages were always greatly looked forward to.

The package was carefully opened and the gifts pulled out one by one. For Dori there was some fine linen, for Ori and Balin a new ink in a deep black that seemed to hold green and blue iridescence, for Bombur there were some hard-to-find spices, for Bofur a geode from a far-distant mountain, for Bifur there was a burl of deep red wood for carving, for Oin there was a book on some obscure surgical technique, for Gloin and his wife there were samples of metalworking in an unfamiliar technique, and of course there was a small axe for young Gimli.

Nethanu had been curled up on a chair in the corner, staying out of the way, enjoying seeing how happy everyone was... even Dori, though he huffed about 'stolen goods'. He was completely unprepared for eyes to turn to him as a final gift was pulled out of the package.

“Nethanu?” even Dori was surprised, and Nethanu came forward to accept it, half-dazed. Nori had _never_ included him in the gift-giving. They were polite to one another, for Dori and Ori's sakes, and it had been long enough that the pinch of Nori's deception had faded, but Nethanu did not expect that he would ever be accepted as _family_ by Nori... because that's what this was. Nori sent presents home to his family.

Dori pressed the gift into his hands, leather, velvet-soft but sturdy. Nethanu unfolded it, hearing the murmurs of appreciation at the workmanship. It was a satchel, perfectly sized for him, the leather embossed with a very Elvish pattern of trees but rendered in an angular Dwarven style.

“Oh...” Nethanu breathed. It was _perfect._

“That's not stolen, that's custom work...” Gloin opined, the rest of the Company agreeing, Nethanu receiving a few congratulatory smacks to the back as he settled it over his shoulder where it rested as though it had grown on him.

“And what's this?” Bofur asked, poking at an undyed silk string knotted around the strap, “Oin, can you read it?”

It was a pretty knot, just a simple flower, and in the heart of it a single word.

_Brother._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The satchel I shamelessly ganked from greenkanagroo's Afterward for Dori and Nethanu. It was too lovely a headcanon not to use.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/680611/chapters/1378354
> 
> Now with Art!  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/48241562188/nethanu-and-nori-chapter-17-axe-omakes-by


	10. A Big Comfortable Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin finally has Nori the way he wants.  
> SMUT

“...and _this_ ,” Dwalin growled, walking him backward into the final room, big hands possessing him, squeezing his back and arse while Dwalin kissed him hard and deep, “this is where I'm _finally_ going to have you the way I want.”  
The big warrior picked Nori up and threw him across the room. He glanced behind himself in half-panic as he fell, making sure to roll as he hit the big bed, and to make sure he ended up sprawled invitingly when he finally came to a rest, grinning up at his giant.  
 _so strong and big and_ still _all pent up  
it's going to be so good  
need this so much  
six months is too long to be away from him  
_ Dwalin had obligingly chased him and thrown him against a wall and fucked him earlier when he first got back into the Mountain, but that was _hours_ ago now. Dwalin had led him through Erebor, showing him all the restoration that had been done in his absence, and then led him here, to an unfamiliar house. It was small and out of the way and Nori was fond of it already. Dwalin had given him a tour, describing the different ways he was going to fuck him in all the rooms.  
If this was his punishment for fleeing the city (and Dori's wrath) and getting himself assigned to a reconnaissance mission without saying goodbye, Nori could live with it.  
“...tomorrow.” Dwalin growled, crawling onto the bed after him, eyes burning, and Nori whimpered with need as his giant pinned him to the bed and kissed him roughly, biting at his lips. Nori arching up against the big Dwarf, holding onto those big shoulders, wrapping his legs around him.  
“ _Tonight_ , I'm just going to _fuck_ you.” Dwalin's voice was hoarse with passion, and Nori's moan was all the answer he needed.  
There were no more coherent words after that.

 Nori sulked, making disgusted faces at the beautiful silk and fur clothes Dwalin was trying to make him wear, his expression turning to outright mutiny when Dwalin started to bring out pieces of jewelry, beautiful pieces in gold inset with emeralds that would draw the most out of his thief's hazel eyes.  
He'd had them commissioned specifically for Nori, jewelry and clothes both, not that he would ever admit such to his thief.  
“Nori...” Dwalin warned, when Nori started threatening to leave even if he _was_ naked, “If _I_ have to go to Court today, you have to come with me... and you _will_ look the part of my Dwarf. You _are_ married to a Noble!”  
Nori huffed, crossing his arms and looking away from the offending clothes as though he could make them go away by ignoring them. Dwalin did his best not to laugh at him, or break down and fuck him again. He looked utterly irresistible, lean and strong, with his hair all down and the little red bitemarks of the previous day's several vigorous fucks decorating him. Dwalin saw the way Nori's weight shifted slightly, and knew that Nori was planning on making a bid for the clothes he was guarding from him.  
“Six months.” Dwalin said quietly, settling himself more firmly between Nori and his clothes. “Without even a goodbye.”  
Nori sighed heavily in defeat, giving Dwalin a pleading look. Dwalin smiled and stepped forward, pulling his Dwarf into a hug.  
“You'll love it.” he said, “All the old Nobles watching you, admiring you, wondering where you came from, wishing they had you – but you'll be with _me_ , and that'll drive them crazy... that the muscle-brained second son of Fundin has the most beautiful Dwarf they've ever seen...”  
Nori chuckled, looking at the clothes and jewels with a new light in his eyes, “You want me to play the pretty-boy?” he asked, his grin all teeth and mischief.  
“...just, don't overdo it.” Dwalin said, “It _is_ the King's Court...”  
Nori's smile made no such promises.

 Nori should have been a courtesan.  
He would never be a classic beauty like Dori but his jeweled and braided hair was perfect and he knew how to move to catch the eye, all restrained strength and grace, with just the slight promise of violence. He flirted outrageously, if covertly, figuring out what a Dwarf liked and using it mercilessly against them – and when he had thoroughly captured their interest, draping himself across Dwalin and ignoring them completely, looking up at Dwalin with big, adoring eyes.  
Dwalin, more than once, had to bite the inside of his cheek and dig his nails into his palms to keep from laughing aloud. He even thought he saw King Dain's lips twist with amusement, since he knew the act for the theatre it was. Balin, Oin, and Gloin just rolled their eyes at the entire thing and tried not to laugh, especially when Nori's flirtations were aimed in their direction. Gloin's wife made a show of being offended by Nori's advances on her, and the two spent some time glaring-daggers-at and turning-away-coldly-from one another. Dwalin didn't know how they kept straight faces through the whole thing.  
A day stuck in Court had never passed so quickly, and at the end of it Dwalin was being envied rather than sneered-at by a fair number of the fussy Nobles he disliked.  
They walked home together, arms around one another's shoulders, and Dwalin could feel his pulse increasing... all day... all day watching Nori dressed so beautifully, watching him be desired by so many... and at home, _finally_ a big comfortable bed and all the time he needed to take him the way he'd wanted to since before the Mountain was reclaimed. First he'd been injured, and supplies had been so low, they'd made do with bedrolls – often just sleeping on a warg-skin rug on the floor – and then just as things were picking up in the Mountain and Dwalin was nearly healed, Nori had disappeared on him.  
 _I've had a long time to plan this  
longer than I wish I'd had, but I have him now  
finally  
_ He closed the door behind them when they finally stepped into the home he'd chosen for them – not too far from Dori and Ori or Balin, but not _too_ close, either. Small and out of the way, and with shadowed windows for Nori to escape from.  
As soon as they were inside Nori sneered and grabbed the biggest piece of jewelry, the necklace, had it half-lifted off his head when Dwalin stopped him.  
“No.” he said, grabbing Nori's hands. Nori's expression promised knives in his future.  
“I look like the easiest mark...” he began.  
“You look” Dwalin spoke over him, letting a little growl in his voice, pulling Nori in closer and looming over him, watching Nori's eyes widen and breath hitch with desire, “like the Dwarf I am about to make love to.”  
Nori grinned, melting against him, “Shouldn't I be naked for that?” he asked, hazel eyes reflecting emerald and gold.  
“Eventually...” Dwalin agreed, pulling his thief toward the bedroom, “Eventually...”

 Nori lay sprawled across the bed, moaning softly, his weak complaints of boredom long given up. Dwalin had gotten all his clothes off, gradually, piece by piece, and unbraided his hair so his thief lay sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but gold and emeralds, his hair spread everywhere – it would tangle, but Dwalin fully planned on brushing it later.  
He rubbed circles with his thumbs in the ball of this thief's foot, pressing firmly enough to avoid tickling, working his way up to the toes, rubbing each one in turn, grasping the entire foot between both hands and massaging it everywhere, twisting it back and forth between his oiled palms until it was warm and relaxed, the way Nori's entire body was, not an inch of him had escaped Dwalin's attention.  
 _now for the next step...  
_ Dwalin had made a note of any spots that Nori seemed to respond to more than others, and he set to work there, the insides of his thighs, predictably, his sternum, surprising, and his hands... but with such clever hands of course they were sensitive. Dwalin worked his way up Nori's thighs, pressing deep anywhere that made the smaller Dwarf moan. He straddled Nori, re-oiling his hands and moving to his chest, working his way inward underneath his collarbone, shifting the necklace out of the way, fanning his hands across the strong muscles of his chest as he worked his way down his thief's sternum and Nori made intensely satisfying little moans, his eyes half closed and dreamy as he lolled on the pillows.  
 _he's fucked countless people, but never had a lover who wanted to enjoy him as slowly as possible  
or at least, not one he would let do it  
in this, I can be his first_  
Nori groaned deep, eyes closing.  
 _oooh, that sounds good  
how did I do that?  
_ Dwalin repeated the motion, paying careful attention – thumbs rubbing across Nori's sternum, leading to rolling pressure, his palms across Nori's chest, ending on deep-rubbed circles with his splayed fingertips.  
Nori groaned again.  
 _it almost seems like...  
but he said he didn't like...  
_ Dwalin tested it, pressing only with the fingers that bracketed Nori's nipples, and was rewarded with the groan a third time.  
 _that sounds good, it sounds like pleasure, it_ looks _like pleasure on his face  
but he said he didn't like attention there...  
I should make sure...  
_ “How is that?” he asked, quietly.  
“mmm...” Nori groaned, “...never enjoyed that...”  
Dwalin moved his fingers away, but Nori whimpered in disappointment.  
“...don't stop.” he murmured, “It's good... never felt like that before... 's _different_... good...”  
Dwalin smiled as he returned his fingers to their original position and continued.  
 _I wonder what else he doesn't know he likes  
he enjoys it like this, indirect and deep  
how many ways did he even _ try _before he decided he didn't like it?  
_ Dwalin thoroughly massaged his thief's chest, then placed two fingers near Nori's right nipple, pressing deep slow circles that had Nori groaning again, and picked up the smaller Dwarf's left hand. He massaged along the outside edge, pinching the muscle firmly between his thumb and first knuckle, rewarded with a moan, worked his way up each and every one of those beautiful clever fingers, kneaded the thick muscle of his thumb, before bringing the hand up to his mouth to kiss the very center of it's palm, suckling lightly at the salty skin.  
“oooh...” Nori moaned, and Dwalin smiled again.  
 _another thing he's never had, I'd wager...  
he would probably enjoy it if I bit his hand, since he tends to like biting, but not yet  
keep it slow  
_ He switched to the opposite side, rubbing the left side of Nori's chest while massaging his right hand. By the time he was done, Nori had a half-mast erection and was writhing slightly beneath Dwalin's straddling legs. His thief, draped with gold and gemstones with his eyes half-lidded and already almost incoherent despite the mildness of Dwalin's attentions so far.  
 _it was worth the wait to finally have him like this_

 Dwalin had one hand beneath Nori's neck, supporting it, pulling the hair back lightly as he gently kissed behind the smaller Dwarf's ear and down the sensitive side of his neck – his second hand between Nori's legs but studiously avoiding his erection, massaging along his pubic bones, starting light with pressure increasing as he relaxed into the unusual sensations of Dwalin stimulating nerve endings that almost never received attention.  
The moans Nori was making now were deeper, rougher, little shivers running through him.  
 _perfect  
_ Dwalin made sure to avoid letting his attentions wander too far down Nori's crease, he'd been turned down _firmly_ the two times he'd offered to finger his thief.  
 _a shame, I'd love to feel that, and he does love attention there  
no matter, I don't plan on fucking him tonight  
I have other ways of pleasuring him  
_ He turned Nori's head and took up kissing the opposite side of his neck. It was a little more awkward to get his arms positioned right, but not unmanageable.  
 _it's a good thing I didn't try this while I was still healing  
I would have had to give up due to arm strain before now  
_ Dwalin ran his fingers beneath Nori's stones, pressing in, searching...  
Nori's breath caught in surprise as he moaned, and Dwalin smiled yet again.  
 _didn't know the sweet spot could be reached from the outside, did he?  
_ He tried different pressures, different strokes, discovering what Nori responded best to. He made sure not to focus too exclusively on it, exploring everywhere else too, but always returning. He switched sides of Nori's neck again, kissing harder now but still not nearly the rough biting Nori typically liked.  
“If... if you wanted...” Nori moaned, “with your fingers... inside... yes...”  
“mmm... you're sure?” Dwalin asked, pitching his voice low and watching the shiver it sent through his thief.  
“trust you.” Nori answered breathlessly, rubbing his cheek against what he could reach of Dwalin's head, “everything... so good... never enjoyed this, _never_ , but it's so _good_.”  
 _slight change of plans_  
 _we'll get to that... eventually_  
 _still so much to do first..._

 Dwalin was trying to kill him, and Nori didn't care. He was brought right up to the edge so gradually he hardly realized that's what was happening, and then Dwalin would change tactics before he pushed over the edge, do something different, pleasure him in yet another different way and tease him slowly back to the edge.  
He'd given up cursing at him, and threatening him. It only made him laugh.  
Dwalin's well-oiled hands were slowly and gently sliding up his erection, which Nori would have thought was not _nearly_ enough to bring him off if his giant's mouth hadn't also been sucking on the inside of his thigh in a spot he'd never known was so sensitive, tongue swirling over the reddened skin, shifting his place occasionally so that he painted a line of red toward Nori's groin.  
The pleasure was... sharp, a bright-edged thing that melted through every inch of his body and beat with his heart and every... every time Dwalin drew him up to the edge it grew brighter and sharper and here it was again, a wave flowing in from the tips of his fingers and toes and he was clenching, arching into it  
and Dwalin's hands and mouth were gone.  
 _nonono  
_ He reached desperately for his giant, and Dwalin was there, gently holding his hands, present and comforting and _there._ His palms were kissed, shivery shocks of pleasure that carried directly into his chest.  
“please, please Dwalin, please, I need...” he hardly recognized the begging voice as his own, and his giant was looking down at him fondly, looking flushed himself, breathing quick.  
“...look at you...” he breathed, caressing the side of Nori's face, leaning in for a kiss that was far too light and brief.  
“please...” Nori begged, and Dwalin smiled at him.  
“Soon.” he promised, “Soon now.” He adjusted some of the jewelry Nori was wearing, cool metal sliding against his skin, and Nori moaned, shivering into the touch.  
 _everywhere feels so sensitive...  
how...how is this even possible...  
_ Dwalin's hand was between his legs again, and this time his fingers were unmistakeably slicked with salve rather than oil, the salve tin had sat beside them open and unused for...  
 _Mahal, how many hours has it been?  
...forever  
_ Dwalin's fingers slid lower than they had thus far, and Nori moaned with relief... but Dwalin did not enter, choosing to rub slowly over the entrance, light and slick and warm, pouring more into the sharp pleasure until Nori was sure it would slice him into bits.  
 _why?  
why does he hate you?  
_ Dwalin raised Nori's hand to his mouth, taking two fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly on them – so similar to earlier when it had been Nori's erection in his mouth being swallowed whole – he hoped it didn't disappear again before he could finish.  
Dwalin's finger finally slid inside, slowly, slowly, rubbing in slow circles until he found the sweet spot, doing his by-now familiar exploration, trying different techniques, figuring out what Nori liked best.  
A slow back-and-forth, blinding intensity feeding into the melting wave that Nori was already drowning in, his fingers in the heat of Dwalin's mouth and, and...  
 _that's just one finger  
that's just _ one _finger, how is he doing this?  
how is it so... so...  
_ A different stroke now, a slow beckoning, deep and firm, and Nori was vaguely aware that his body had arched itself into a bow and Dwalin's teeth were biting into the thick muscle of his thumb, pain sharp and intense and his throat hurt...  
 _screaming_  
 _you're screaming_  
Then everything was washed away as the pleasure broke over him, bright-edged and deadly.

 Dwalin collapsed across his thief, spending into the hand he'd dropped to his aching erection the instant it was clear Nori was going to finish, he released the hand he'd bitten to send Nori all the way over the brink – the pink oval light compared to many of the bite marks Nori liked.  
Dwalin's cheek rested against the gold and emerald necklace – such perfect colors against the flushed skin of his thief.  
Nori made strange little mewling sounds, hard tremors and little convulsions still passing through his body as he came down, his heart racing under Dwalin's ear.  
Dwalin slid his finger out as gently as possible, wiping it and the seed in his other hand on the blanket that would have to be washed anyway.  
 _now I hold him  
_ For once Dwalin wasn't the most tired after their lovemaking, he pulled Nori gently into his arms and his thief whimpered softly against his chest, boneless and exhausted from overstimulation.  
 _get him something to drink, as soon as he's recovered enough  
a bath next, when he's recovered a little more  
then brush and braid his hair, and tuck him into bed beside me  
it's late, very late  
but we don't have to be up early for any reason tomorrow  
_ Dwalin kissed Nori's forehead, cuddling him in close.  
“fuckin'... _love_ you.” Nori murmured, digging his fingers into Dwalin's chest hair, and Dwalin felt his heart clench. True, it was said in a post-sex haze while his thief was still drunk on the afterglow, but it was still the first time Nori had offered those words first, and not as an answer, and hesitantly at that.  
It was a start.  
“I love you too.” he said, “ _So_ much...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one fought with me for three days, but I feel like I have finally defeated it.
> 
> Now with Art!  
> http://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/post/46596131892/illputanarrowinyoureye-axe-omakes-chapter-14


	11. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin and Nori don't _always_ get along.

Dwalin was proud of his thief.

He was.

Nori was brilliantly clever, and quick, and he could fit in wherever he wanted to – as comfortable playing the part of the pretty knotmaker in King Dain's court as he was juggling knives and drinking terrible ale in dangerously seedy taverns.

Dwalin knew that Nori lived in a world where locks might as well not exist and where anything he saw and wanted might as well be his.

He _knew_ that Nori's moral code was different from his own, and where he'd once thought the thief didn't have one, he now knew that he did. Nori had a strong moral sense, and was absolutely loyal to his brothers and the Company, and he would do what it took to keep them safe... and the range of things that included was very wide and had absolutely no regard for legality.

Dwalin knew his thief was a thief.

Dwalin was _proud_ of his thief.

And that was why it stung so hard when he saw Nori's hand slide out of the pocket of a Darrowdam as they walked through the market.

She hadn't noticed, of course, Nori was too good for that.

If they'd been in Erebor's High Market Dwalin might have been able to -if not forgive it- at least _understand_ it.

They weren't.

They were in the common market, and she was a sturdy working Dwarf, threadbare but clean, obviously tired but with a sweet smile on her face for her cute child.

Nori's hand slid out of her pocket and he kept walking as though he'd done nothing, turning slightly toward Dwalin to give him a small smile.

Dwalin knew that smile.

It was the “I feel good” smile, the “isn't life nice?” smile, and it was such a rare smile that he normally treasured it but it was _not right_. Nori was wealthy now, embarrassingly so, and he had _known_ poverty... and he stole small change from a Darrowdam who could not afford to lose it.

Dwalin had thought he'd known Nori's moral compass.

Clearly he did not.

...and there was nothing he could do.

He could not call him out in the middle of the market without bringing dishonor down on his own house because they were _married_.

He took a firm grip on Nori's bicep, a haul-prisoner-to-jail grip, and Nori gave him a startled look as Dwalin began to march them away.

“Dwalin..?” Nori didn't fight the grip, he knew as well as Dwalin did that he couldn't break it without pulling knives on him and Nori wouldn't do that.

...or so Dwalin hoped.

“We're going home.” Dwalin growled.

“But... the pies...” Nori protested. They'd come to market to buy Nori's favorite pies for dinner, meaty greasy things that were absolutely delicious.

“No pies.” Dwalin said firmly, and Nori didn't protest again.

They walked home in silence, and Dwalin kept the lid on his anger.

When they were finally at home, with the door closed tight behind them, Dwalin resisted the urge to slam him against the wall like the criminal he was.

That kind of display of strength had the _wrong_ effect on Nori.

Dwalin let him go.

“This better be worth missing the pies.” Nori said, rubbing at his arm where Dwalin had gripped it.

Dwalin _wanted_ to be proud of his thief.

It hurt that he could not be.

Nori started by claiming he _hadn't_ been stealing anything, and then when Dwalin told him he'd _seen_ his hand in her pocket Nori tried to shrug it off as 'just practice'.

It was not 'just practice' to the Darrowdam he'd stolen from. It was her _life_ , it was food for herself and her child, and Dwalin asked Nori if he were _really_ so petty as to steal pennies from the poor, if a fourteenth of the gold of Erebor were really not _enough_ for him.

Nori's hazel eyes glittered cold. “You tell me.” he said.

Nori refused to feel any remorse, his jaw clenching as Dwalin tried to explain to him why he _should_.

He grew angrier when Dwalin asked him if he cared _at all_ about his family's honor, Nori's answers grew more and more terse, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter, his eyes glinting hard as Dwalin argued around him.

Dwalin was finally done, finally had no more he could _say_ , and Nori was standing staring him down.

“I should have _known_.” Nori sneered. “I should have known I would never be 'good enough' for you and your 'family honor'. You knew I was a thief when you married me, you should have worried about it _then_. I _am_ a thief, Dwalin. I've always been a thief and I'll always _be_ a thief, but I'll never be _more_ than just a petty thief to you, will I?”

Nori drew down the collar of his shirt, running his thumb across the thin white scar on his neck that still twisted Dwalin inside when he saw it... even if Nori didn't feel he'd been forced.

“You gave me _this_ because you couldn't trust a Dwarf who was _begging_ you to fuck him unless you had an axe to my neck. Your jail couldn't hold me, I had _no reason_ to offer you unless I wanted you – but you couldn't trust it. I should have _known_ you'd never trust me.”

Nori was backing away from Dwalin, toward the window... and if he reached the window he would be _gone_ and Dwalin had the sudden horrible fear that if Nori left he wouldn't be back. He'd disappeared for six months once just because he didn't want to confront an angry Dori. If Nori left and didn't want to be found... would Dwalin ever see him again?

“Don't...” Dwalin reached toward him, as if to grab him, keep him, never let him go – and he saw Nori's elbows shift slightly so his knives were close to his hands and he could see, in Nori's eyes, Dwalin's blood on his knives if his fingertips so much as _brushed_ Nori's clothes.

Dwalin drew his hand back, and Nori disappeared out the window with one last flash of cold-glittering angry eyes.

 

Nori's entire body was tight with anger when he stalked into the house. Dori did his best to ignore it.

“I believe we have some leftovers...” Dori began.

“I already ate.” Nori snapped, throwing himself into a chair and sharpening a knife as though it had personally insulted him. He smelled like cheap pipe weed and bad ale.

“I stole some pies and got chased halfway across the city by the guard.” he added, as if challenging Dori to yell at him for it.

Dori just sighed, resuming his knitting.

“Is Dwalin going to be over?” he asked. The two were almost never apart.

“No.” Nori huffed, grinding his sharpening stone on the knife in a way that couldn't be good for the blade. “And if... _when_ he does – take his arms out of their sockets.”

ah.

a fight.

Inevitable, really. It was surprising it had taken this long for them to have their first major argument... and here Nori was stealing things and having a snit instead of dealing with it.

...but then he'd never had a good example to follow. The Dwarf who'd sired him had never stuck around long enough to argue with their mother, and whenever he'd had a disagreement with Dori, Nori had always just disappeared until it blew over.

Still... Nori was wearing his marriage bead and he was still in the city of Erebor. He hadn't decided to run off to the East or _wherever_ yet.

“Your room is always open for you.” Dori said.

Nori grumbled something that might have been gratitude, packing a pipe with acrid cheap pipe-weed, and lighting it to fill the room with strong, sharp-smelling smoke, puffing on it energetically.

Nethanu sneezed twice, and Dori gave him an encouraging nod. The graceful young Elf excused himself to another room, taking his book with him. Dori put his knitting away so it wouldn't reek and opened a few windows, letting the Mountain's carefully designed ventilation system carry the smoke away.

Nori was still smoking and grinding the knife into a thin point when Ori came home. He listened to Ori talk about the work he was doing in the library, but it was clear he was still angry and distracted.

When there was a tentative pounding on the front door, Nori stood.

“Take his arms off, Dori.” He said, flinging the now-uselessly-thin knife into a trash can, shaking metal filings out of his clothes all over the floor, and stomping off into his room, slamming the door.

Dori did not want to be in the middle of this.

 

“Is Nori here?” Dwalin asked. After cooling down for a few hours, he'd checked a few of Nori's favorite haunts, knowing that even if he'd been there Dwalin wouldn't see him unless he wanted to be seen.

“You're not coming in.” Dori said, but he'd also nodded at the question, and Dwalin caught a whiff of the strong pipe-weed Nori sometimes favored. If he were anyone but Dori, Dwalin would have pushed his way past to get to his thief.

He knew better than to try that with Dori.

“I'm not going to be in the middle of this.” Dori said, and... and that was fair. Dwalin had made it absolutely clear to him that he'd not chase Nori for him after Nori had disappeared for six months last time Dwalin tried. Dwalin would not be in the middle of Nori and Dori's disputes, and Dori wouldn't be in the middle of Dwalin and Nori's.

But at least Nori wasn't gone.

...not yet...

Dori's face softened, and he patted Dwalin on the arm, “He's still wearing your bead.” He said, gently.

Dwalin breathed a breath of relief he hadn't even known he was holding, he looked past Dori toward the closed door of Nori's room... the one he'd not thought Nori would be using anymore, since they had a whole house to themselves.

“I don't know what to do.” he admitted. He was still angry, but he was more afraid of Nori disappearing on him.

Dori laughed slightly, eyes sad. “I've never known either, with him.” He said.

Dwalin nodded. He wanted to push past Dori and barge into Nori's room, but he knew it would end in either knives or Nori disappearing, and neither of those was a good option... if he even managed to get past Dori, which he wouldn't.

“Tell him I...” Dwalin started, and then stopped. He wanted to tell Dori to tell Nori that he loved him, but he remembered how Nori flinched from that word, and having Dori say something that made Nori want to run when he was already halfway to running...

He remembered that parting stab.

“Tell him I trust him.” he said. He threw one last look toward Nori's obstinately closed door before he turned to go home to his empty house.

Dori quickly signed something to Ori that Dwalin was at a bad angle to read, and stepped out the door to walk beside Dwalin.

“Why doesn't he think you trust him?” Dori asked... and after saying that he'd not be in the middle of it... Still, Dwalin wasn't going to turn down help.

He could _not_ lose his thief.

“He was...” Dwalin stopped himself. If he was truly going to say he trusted Nori he had to tell the story the way it was.

“He said he wasn't stealing, but I _saw_ his hand in her pocket.”

“Hmm...” Dori looked thoughtful, “He usually doesn't deny stealing if he _did_ steal.” an idea seemed to strike the eldest son of Kori, “What did she look like?” he asked.

Dwalin described the darrowdam as well as he could remember, and Dori was nodding.

“Our mother never counted her money.” he said.

Dwalin didn't follow, and his confusion must have shown on his face.

“A tired, threadbare darrowdam who always had a smile for her boys...” he described, a little wistfully, “Who bought what was needed, and who's purse and pocket never ran empty even though it seemed like she spent more than she made... there was always just a _little_ more in there, just a few more coins she'd overlooked...”

It took Dwalin a moment to understand, “Nori put money into...”

“Him and his sire before him.” Dori said, “I didn't figure it out myself until after she died.”

Dwalin could feel his shoulders slumping.

Nori had _smiled_ at him afterward.

“He always comes back.” Dori said, quietly, “He leaves but he always comes back.” He patted Dwalin on the back and turned back to walk home again.

Dwalin went home to his empty house.

 

It took him two weeks to catch Nori.

There had been a rash of brazen thefts, nothing expensive, just flashy.

The guard were having no luck catching the thief. Dwalin volunteered to help.

He thought it was childish of Nori to be acting this way.

He didn't want to think about what _else_ Nori might be doing. He knew he wasn't staying with Dori after the first day.

Dwalin had chased Nori through enough of Erebor that he was able to predict him, cut him off and catch him, grabbing him by the arm and throwing him against a wall – just like the first time they'd met... but this time Dwalin didn't pull his axe, and he recognized the way Nori reacted to his strength, though his thief tried to suppress it.

A knife pricked Dwalin through his tunic, just below his heart. Nori's eyes glittered, cold and hard. Dwalin didn't look at the knife, didn't react to it at all, kept eye contact.

His bead was still on the little braid behind Nori's ear, thank Aule.

“I trust you, Nori.” He said, quietly, “I trust you with a knife to my heart.” he stepped closer, and the knife followed him, didn't pierce him. He brushed his fingertips across Nori's cheek.

“If you say you didn't do it, you didn't do it.” he said. “...please come home.”

“You don't want a thief in your house.” Nori said, and the cold hardness in his eyes was chipping away, the pain underneath showing through.

“I want _you_.” Dwalin said, “I'm proud of my clever thief.”

Nori closed his eyes, cocking his head to the side as he listened hard for a moment, “Would you tell the guards that are about to catch up with you that you're married to me?” he asked.

Dwalin's fingers brushed the bead on the little braid behind Nori's ear, “I would.” he said.

Nori stretched up, his lips brushing quickly across Dwalin's.

“I'll be home tonight.” he whispered, “...this is going to hurt...”

Dwalin had half an instant to realize what Nori was about to do before the blade swept across his body, followed by a boot to the side of his face and Nori was up and over the wall just as the guards came into the alley.

Nori and his pride... he had to have the guards _see_ him escape Dwalin.

It did hurt, but not as much as it could have. Nori had opened his tunic across the front of his body, but he'd not left more than a red scratch on Dwalin's skin, only deep enough to bleed a few drops over one of his ribs... and the kick was not nearly as hard as Nori could have kicked him – it would hardly bruise.

The guards fussed over Dwalin, exclaiming about his luck in not being gutted.

“I wouldn't chase that one, if I were you.” he warned them, shaking his head, “You _do not_ want to catch that one.”

 

Nori was home that night as promised, climbing in the window smelling of bad ale and cheap pipe-weed. He stripped down and climbed into bed with Dwalin as though he'd never been gone.

Dwalin wrapped his arms tight around his thief.

“You didn't ask, you just _accused_ and yelled.” Nori said, quietly. “I _wouldn't_ do that, I wouldn't...” He paused, considering, “...unless I was starving and she was the best option.”

“I know.” Dwalin said, smiling a little. It was so _Nori_ to have qualifications on his morals, to be honest with himself about what he would and wouldn't do. There were almost no things in Nori's world that he would _never_ do, if given the right circumstances.

Dwalin gently tasted the skin of Nori's neck, running his hands over his thief's body. Nori seemed smaller, the edges of his lean muscles harder, as though he hadn't been eating well in the last few weeks.

“I'd like to find a way to pay back what you stole.” Dwalin said, and Nori chuckled.

“Already did.” he said, smugly, “I snuck payment for what I took into their tills or safes before I took it.”

Dwalin couldn't help laughing, “My clever thief.” he said warmly, rolling himself over on top of his thief to kiss him soundly.

Dwalin was proud of his thief.

He was. 


	12. Jealous Much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori exercises great self restraint and does not kill anyone.

Nori spotted Dwalin through the crowded market, and made his way toward his giant with a smile. They hadn't seen one another for weeks. Nori pondered, as he kept just out of sight, how he should reveal himself... stealing Dwalin's purse was always a good start, and if he could direct the inevitable chase toward the Chert district, there were some very nice dark, quiet, alleys to get caught in...  
Then Nori noticed the Dwarf Dwalin was talking to, and the uncomfortable the set of Dwalin's shoulders.  
He was a pretty little thing, with big blue eyes and a long blond braid, and he blushed, half-afraid but _all_ interested as he looked up at Dwalin over the market stall table. The fact that Dwalin hadn't just glowered and walked away from him meant that there was some history there, the way he was playing with his braid probably meant he knew how it affected Dwalin, which probably meant that he had been _with_ Dwalin, which meant he was probably one of the four.  
With the restoration of Erebor nearing completion, and more Dwarves streaming in by the day, it was inevitable that they would start meeting Dwarves they had known before.  
Nori quashed the sudden need to kill the other Dwarf, but not before thinking up seven different scenarios, one of which involved a rusty fork.  
Those four lovers had _hurt_ Dwalin, and that was unforgivable. Nori did not know how anyone could call such a perfect example of all things Dwarf a _monster_ , did not know how they could fear someone who was so gentle and considerate... until you told him not to be.  
He discarded several plans, as he crept closer, still keeping out of Dwalin's sight. He considered taking down his hair and beard, to prove that his was better, but that would be too obvious. He considered ducking out of sight of everyone and replacing a bunch of his hidden knives on the outside of his clothes, so he looked scary, but that was also too obvious... as was grabbing Dwalin and giving him a passionate full-body kiss right in front of the other Dwarf, or standing between them and stabbing a knife into the table in front of the other Dwarf and glaring at him until he got the message.  
Nori settled for suddenly appearing at Dwalin's left side and oozing into him like oil, eyes drilling into the startled blue of the other Dwarf. Dwalin only almost jumped out of his skin in surprise, half-drawing an axe before he realized it was Nori and put an arm around him, smiling hard.  
“Introduce me.” Nori smiled, eyes not leaving the blond Dwarf's face. He mostly tuned out Dwalin's introduction, curling an arm around his giant's big shoulder, winding a small knife between his fingers before using it to touch the little knotted gold marriage bead behind Dwalin's ear, the blond Dwarf's eyes widening as he noticed, and Nori didn't stop smiling, vanishing the little knife back up his sleeve.  
“Pleasure to meet you.” Nori said, at the appropriate moment, still smiling. The other Dwarf was starting to inch away from him, eying his smile distrustfully, and Nori allowed a few more teeth.  
For some reason, the other Dwarf was eager to wrap up the conversation, and Dwalin and Nori made their exit.  
“Home?” Dwalin asked, running the ball of his thumb across Nori's cheek, smiling.  
“He was one of your four?” Nori asked, though it was more than half statement of fact, and Dwalin nodded uncomfortably, grabbing onto Nori's shoulder when he growled and turned back toward the stall, knife sliding into his hand.  
“No.” Dwalin said, firmly, towing him away, “If I killed everyone _you_ ever fucked...”  
“He _hurt_ you, and he was _flirting_ with you.” Nori hissed, struggling halfheartedly against Dwalin's grip. “I'll just warn him off...”  
Dwalin sighed, “Promise you'll not hurt him, or run him out of the Mountain.” he requested, and Nori nodded. Dwalin sighed again and released him.  
“Meet you at home.” He said, flashing a smile as he disappeared himself back into the crowd. 

 The blond Dwarf was completely unprepared, when he stepped out of sight of the Market crowds, to be grabbed from behind and pinned with knives to his throat and kidney, pricking gently against his skin.  
“You called him a monster, more than once.” Nori purred in the terrified Dwarf's ear, “But you were still so interested in him you didn't even look for a marriage bead... or maybe you weren't interested in him, just the share of Erebor's gold?” Nori, paused for a moment, let it sink in.  
“I didn't... I didn't...” The blond Dwarf tried, and Nori laughed lightly, leaning back a bit.  
“You didn't _anything_.” he said, “You had him for _years_ but you never let him have you. You should have _begged_ him to fuck you, but you called him a beast and a monster and missed out on the best lay in Middle Earth, and now he's mine and you'll never have him... I almost feel sorry for you...”  
“I'm sorry, I, I, please...” the blond Dwarf tried again.  
“I'm not going to hurt you.” Nori commented casually, leaning in close again to whisper, “but if I ever catch you flirting with my Dwarf again, I'll cut your pretty braid right off.”  
Nori released the other Dwarf, let him watch him flick his knives back up his sleeves, watched the Dwarf wonder what sort of assassin Nori might be, and then smiled and swaggered away, turning his back on the Dwarf without even a second look.  
He resisted the urge to run his hand down his braid to drive home the point that his was better. It wasn't a competition.  
And Dwalin was waiting for him at home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nori... I think your plan was still pretty darn obvious.
> 
> Now with art!  
> http://nowitsaparty.tumblr.com/post/51281374806/jealous-much-with-quite-a-lot-of-few-alterations


	13. Jealous Dwalin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SMUT!  
> yep, this chapter is smut. Graphic smut.  
> You ask for Jealous!Dwalin, and you get smut.  
> You're welcome.

Dwalin could tell the Dwarves Nori had fucked, something in the speculative way they eyed him, the proprietary way they leaned toward him, the way they smacked him on the back or shoulder a little _too_ hard in greeting... in Erebor, Dwalin could walk beside Nori, could be seen with him, could smash in the faces of anyone who tried to throw Nori against a wall, if Nori didn't threaten them with his knives first. In Erebor, Nori wore Dwalin's marriage bead visibly and proudly. In Erebor, Nori _did_ sometimes come in through the window at ungodly hours of the night reeking of cheap ale, but never of sex. In Erebor, Dwalin had nothing to worry about.  
They weren't _in_ Erebor.  
King Dain had assigned them to protect an emissary who was traveling through the Eastern borderlands. Dwalin headed the guards who protected the emissary in the traditional way, and Nori was a wandering thief who happened to travel to the same towns at nearly the same time. Not even the rest of the guards knew that Nori was with them, and Nori did not wear Dwalin's marriage bead, replacing it with a small reddish one that matched his hair, and he wore it on a tiny braid tucked up and hidden behind his ear.  
As he often did when they were traveling together but not-together, Dwalin had taken to frequenting seedy taverns, sitting quietly and drinking only lightly, and _not_ watching the laughing and drinking of a thief with quick knives and red-brown hair... they could not be _with_ one another, hadn't in months, but at least this way they could _see_ one another, even if they couldn't be seen looking.  
Dwalin could tell the Dwarves Nori had fucked, and he did not react when they leered down at his thief, smacking him on the shoulder a little _too_ hard in greeting, seeing Nori's automatic response to the display of strength... but if they pushed further Nori always showed his bead, and if they pushed further still Nori brought out his knives... at least that's how it went while Dwalin watched. He couldn't know about other times, Nori had never promised him fidelity.  
Dwalin had gotten good at not reacting to those sorts of interactions. This was different. The dark southern Dwarf moved like a snake, smooth and deadly, hardly looking where he was going – Dwarves moved out of his way automatically. He wore heavy gold jewelry, which Dwalin knew meant he was dangerous enough to get away with it in a place like this. Dwalin was sure he could take him in a fair fight, but had a feeling the other Dwarf was good at making sure he never had to face a _fair_ fight.  
The Dwarf shouted an unfamiliar name, and Nori jumped to his feet, big smile on his face.  
“Ornir!” he greeted, throwing his arms wide.  
“You no die!” the other Dwarf, Ornir, grinned, smacking Nori hard on both shoulders while Nori smacked back, “Too long, no see you! Kiss, kiss...” He pulled Nori forward, angling his mouth toward Nori's, and instead of ducking away or pushing back the way Nori _still_ sometimes did when Dwalin unexpectedly tried to kiss him, he was pulling forward too, lips parting...  
Dwalin's blood boiled, and visions of Ornir's gold-decorated head impaled on a stick danced behind his eyes.  
Just before their lips touched they both flicked knives out of their sleeves and tapped one another on the lips with the flat, laughing as they broke apart... and that was hardly better. Nori letting a knife so close to his face, that was trust.  
Dwalin clenched his fists under the table and did not bury his axes in the other Dwarf. He concentrated on breathing normally and drinking the wretched date wine, and did not watch while Nori pulled the other Dwarf down beside him and ordered him wine with distilled liquor, laughing the whole time.  
Dwalin did not watch the other Dwarf lick his lips, eyes traveling appreciatively over Nori, see the little half-smile as he started to try to glare away the other Dwarves Nori was talking to.  
Dwalin did not watch Nori do nothing to stop it. Dwalin did not watch Nori _not_ moving away from Ornir as the other Dwarf inched closer.  
Dwalin drank his wine, and did _not_ watch. He kept himself calm, soothing himself with visions of chopping Ornir into very small pieces with a very big axe.  
“No, _you_?!” the other Dwarf suddenly exclaimed, he was leaning down close and was touching Nori's marriage bead, fingers brushing against neck and ear in the process.  
“It's true.” Nori smiled, shrugging, and Ornir threw himself back dramatically, hands across his heart as though it were breaking, to much laughter from the Dwarves he hadn't managed to glare away yet. He laughed too and stood, patting Nori soothingly on the shoulder.  
“I go kill now, yes?”  
“No!” Nori laughed, pulling the Dwarf back down to sit, and Dwalin definitely didn't watch how Ornir managed to sit even closer than he had before, practically flush against Nori, and he definitely didn't notice that Nori didn't move further away, and, in fact, he downed the rest of his wine and left.  
Nori had never promised him fidelity, Dwalin reminded himself as he stomped back to his room in the inn, a small single room with a window in case Nori needed to sneak in to give him information. Dwalin knew how Nori was when he gave him a marriage bead, he _knew_... and right now he couldn't offer Nori anything, hadn't been able to for months, wouldn't _be_ able to for months. Why should he expect him to resist when a big dangerous Dwarf who fit Nori's tastes perfectly made him an offer?  
Dwalin sat on the edge of his bed, clenching and unclenching his fists in his knuckledusters, listening to the comforting creak of the leather. In Erebor Nori wore his marriage bead, the one that was instantly recognizable as coming from Dwalin's house, the lineage of Kings. In Erebor Dwalin could sit beside Nori and bury his knuckledusters in the face of anyone who though it was a good idea to try to get Nori into bed (or, more likely, against a wall). In Erebor Dwalin had nothing to worry about.  
They were not in Erebor.  
They were strangers, here.  
He blew out the candle and tried to sleep. He definitely didn't think about Nori's lean body curled around a Dwarf who wore too much gold and moved like a venomous snake. He did not think about dark hands leaving grip-bruises on Nori, or teeth sinking into Nori's neck, or the way Nori looked when he was being fucked _hard_ and was just reaching the brink of orgasm and the only word he knew how to say anymore was 'yes'.  
He did imagine smashing Ornir into a pulp with his hammer.

 There was a soft noise at the window, and Dwalin was on his feet, axes in hand, by the time he recognized the star-haired silhouette of his thief.  
“Do we have to go?” he whispered, heart racing, it wouldn't be the first time his thief had warned him just in the brink of time to escape an assassination attempt not even Nori could sabotage.  
Nori shook his head, quickly ducking away from the window and sliding into Dwalin, pressing himself full length against him, completely silent as he wrapped his arms around Dwalin, pulling his head down for a hard kiss. Dwalin reached around his thief, axes crossed behind him, pulling him in close, suppressing a groan. It had been _so long_.  
“I shouldn't have come.” Nori stretched up to whisper breathlessly Dwalin's ear, his erection straining through the laces of his pants, grinding it against Dwalin, “...can't stay long.” he bit down lightly on Dwalin's earlobe, breath hot and desperate.  
Someone in another room sneezed, and the sound carried perfectly, as though it were in the same room. Dwalin resisted the urge to curse. _All_ he wanted was to make Nori thrash and scream and beg and he couldn't... and Nori's hair was still braided up, so he couldn't have that either.  
“...be silent.” he murmured, and Nori was nodding. It had surprised Dwalin that the Dwarf who was normally so vocal was also very good at suppressing all sound when he had to. Nori pushed away from him, putting down his pack and drawing out his thin blanket, throwing it over the window before crouching down on the floor so he wouldn't cast a shadow when Dwalin lit the candle. Dwalin grabbed the blankets off the bed and spread them on the floor – the bed frame squeaked, it would have to be the floor. Dwalin took off the few clothes he had been sleeping in while Nori began to strip – he was of course done before Nori, and grabbed his thief, pulling the clothes off of him roughly, running his hands over all those beautiful, lean, and Aule-be-praised _unmarked_ muscles.  
“I didn't.” Nori murmured, and Dwalin realized that his search had not been as subtle as he had hoped, Nori knew what Dwalin was looking for, and those words... 'I didn't' not 'I wouldn't' or 'I've never' or 'I didn't even consider', just that he _didn't_ , and it had to be enough.  
Nori was kissing him hard again, pulling Dwalin on top of him as he lay down on the blankets. Dwalin ground down on top of Nori, the smaller Dwarf arching up against him, mouth opening in a soundless gasp.  
“What was he?” Dwalin murmured, reaching between them to stroke them together lightly. Nori's eyes rolled, fingernails biting into Dwalin's back and shoulders, but he shook his head, trying to answer.  
“...nothing...” he breathed, “nothing... a fuck...” Dwalin bit Nori on the shoulder, tightening his grip on their erections, feeling his thief's body jerk as he let out a soundless groan.  
“different.” Dwalin contended in a whisper, biting again, working his way down Nori's collarbone, leaving a bright line of red ovals, the smaller Dwarf arching into each one. He couldn't leave a mark anywhere that would be seen, but that left a lot of space.  
“like me... I was...” Nori was gasping, still without a sound, “s-same rules...” and while Dwalin didn't know everything about the rules Nori had had, he did understand some. Nori had been able to trust the southern Dwarf, at least a little, because the other Dwarf wouldn't ask him for intimacy.  
and that was the thing, the _one_ thing that Nori gave to Dwalin that he never gave to anyone else, the one thing that was _important_ to his thief.  
“love you.” he whispered, reaching Nori's opposite shoulder, feeling Nori briefly tense against the words as he bit down hard.  
“lo-loveyou.” Nori murmured, the words that still so often tried to stick in his throat fighting their way out for Dwalin as he held on tighter, holding onto Dwalin's shoulders.  
Dwalin breathed the words against Nori's neck, “give me what you never gave him...” brushing his teeth along the tender curve of Nori's neck, the smaller Dwarf turning into it hungrily though they both knew Dwalin couldn't bite, couldn't leave marks there... and then Nori was twisting under Dwalin, fighting for leverage to try to flip the bigger Dwarf, and Dwalin let him, letting Nori roll himself on top. He bit lightly at Dwalin's lips, but he didn't dare leave marks either, and he settled for kissing deep and long, as though he would devour Dwalin from the mouth. Dwalin held him, kneading the strong muscles of his thief's back as Nori ground their bodies together. Nori did not kiss anyone else, Dwalin was the only person he'd kissed in half a century.  
Nori finally broke the kiss, breathing hard, resting their foreheads together for a moment before he slid downward, planting sharp bites across Dwalin's chest before he finally ran the wet heat of his tongue across the pierced nipple in a torturously slow circle, Dwalin groaned quietly into the exquisite pleasure.  
Nori froze, drawing back to give him a glare, and Dwalin snarled silently, grabbing Nori by the back of the head and pulling him back to his chest.  
He'd forgotten to be silent. He would _not_ forget again, and Nori shook slightly in soundless laughter as he set back to work, clever tongue flicking and circling, switching from nipple to nipple, interspersed with bites along the muscles of Dwalin's chest, the smaller Dwarf rubbing his body along Dwalin's erection, only _just_ enough stimulation to be sweet torture.  
Dwalin clenched his jaw, eyes closed, breathing through his nose, digging his fingers into the perfection that was Nori's back, and made no sound as his body arched up, begging for more though Dwalin couldn't with his voice, and Nori was merciful. He slid further downward to kneel between Dwalin's legs, raking his nails along Dwalin's tender sides as he finally engulfed Dwalin's erection in his mouth, into the welcoming heat, his quick tongue flicking expertly around his crown before he pressed him deep, gripping tight with a hand at the base, stroking in counter-tempo as he sucked.  
Nori's spare hand gripped and kneaded Dwalin's thigh... and Dwalin thought his jaw would break from the force of keeping in the sounds he _needed_ to make... and oh, that tongue, that tongue, swirling slowly around at the top of every leisurely stroke, when his hand had pulled all the skin down and Dwalin was completely exposed.  
He opened his eyes, looking down to see Nori looking back, watching him from under his braided eyebrows with his lips stretched around Dwalin's girth.  
 _His_ thief, pleasuring _him,_ watching _him_ , giving what he did not give to _anyone_ else... a hot shiver of pleasure rolled down his body and his erection jumped in Nori's mouth as he just _barely_ held back a moan. He felt the soft puff of breath from Nori's nose as the smaller Dwarf laughed silently, eyes creasing up in a smile.  
Nori reached up, running his hand over Dwalin's stomach, digging his fingers into the thick hair on Dwalin's chest before he hooked one delicate fingertip through Dwalin's nipple ring, hardly touching, a light teasing of pleasure. Dwalin's mouth opened as his body arched up toward it, but Nori froze and he slammed his mouth shut again, jaw clenched as his eyes closed.  
His thief knew what he liked, and how much he could take, and unable to communicate he had to trust Nori. Nori's breath puffed in a laugh again as he moved again. Dwalin lost himself in the slick heat of Nori's mouth and hand, almost forgetting his nipple ring until Nori's finger twitched, tugging on it, _just_ on the edge of what Dwalin could tolerate, and his entire body jerked at the white-hot pleasure jolting between it and his groin.  
Dwalin shoved his forearm into his mouth, biting down to keep himself silent as Nori alternated pulling the ring and rubbing it in slow circles, his mouth and other hand never slowing their languid pace and that terrible-wonderful-beautiful-clever tongue flicking and swirling around and around... and Dwalin knew that his thief could, _would_ , keep going for hours... but usually he'd thrown Nori against a wall and fucked him hard recently when they did things like this. It had been _so long_ , and Dwalin could feel the tightness growing already in the pit of his stomach. He would not last, and he didn't want to finish this way, he wanted to be _inside_ his thief, feel the clenching heat of his orgasm before he had his own.  
He tapped Nori's hand with the arm that wasn't keeping him silent, reaching down to push him off, and Nori released him silently, wiping his mouth on his arm before he crawled on top of Dwalin to kiss him deep and slow, he could taste the light musk of himself in Nori's mouth. Nori was achingly hard against him, breath panting hot as he rubbed himself against Dwalin's body.  
Nori pushed away again, climbing off of Dwalin and reaching into his clothes for the salve. Dwalin followed, wrapping his body around the back of his thief, biting beside Nori's shoulder blade and sucking on the tender skin there, feeling Nori tremble as he exhaled in a silent moan. Dwalin didn't know how he did it, but Nori could, somehow, turn off his noises, so he could moan and even scream while nothing escaped his mouth but soft breaths.  
Nori had the salve tin in his hands, and he paused for a moment before he flicked the top off and handed it to Dwalin without taking any, turning to make eye contact, and Dwalin nearly groaned when he realized what he was being offered, more that Nori gave to _no one_.  
He nodded, kissing his Dwarf, and Nori lay back on the blankets, supporting himself on his elbows, legs open toward Dwalin, panting with anticipation. Dwalin ran his hands down that perfectly lean body, rubbing rough circles with his thumbs on the smaller Dwarf's nipples. Nori was not sensitive in the same way Dwalin was, but he did like some attention there. Finally he dipped his fingers into the salve, thoroughly greasing them, and ran them gently up and down Nori's cleft, circling a finger slowly before pressing inward, feeling Nori push back, helping, welcoming. His thief's head fell back, his throat moving in a groan that made no sound as Dwalin slowly moved his finger deeper, fucking Nori with the thick digit... so many years he'd though it would be the closest he would ever feel to actually fucking someone, and though he _could_ now, he still loved the feeling, the tight heat on his fingers, the closeness... the trust Nori gave him, allowing him entrance to his body this way. Dwalin pressed a second greased finger slowly inside, watching the shudder pass through Nori's body, watching Nori's face contort with pleasure, eyes rolled back, his lips moving softly in words, probably curses, though no sound emerged.  
Dwalin curled his fingers slightly, rubbing in slow circles in the slick heat that would feel _so_ good when he finally fucked his Dwarf, searching for...  
Nori's entire body jerked, teeth bared ferociously as he ground himself down hard on Dwalin's fingers, eyes burning, and his breath escaping sharply in a silent scream.  
found it. Dwalin smiled as he kept a slow even pressure on the spot, grabbing Nori's hip with his free hand to steady him, refusing to go harder. Nori was definitely cursing now, and probably Dwalin's ancestry by the look in his eye and the viciousness of how his face moved, but he still made no sound, and he controlled his body so he made no thumps on the floor.  
So good at being silent, Dwalin didn't really want to know _how_ he'd gotten so good, though he could appreciate the skill at times like this, stolen moments that must not be known.  
Dwalin pressed a third finger inward, giving Nori a moment's reprieve from rubbing, watching his thief's body go limp with a bone-deep groan that was somehow still soundless. He waited for Nori's muscles to relax around the new stretch, letting go his grip on the smaller Dwarf's hip, petting the soft hair on Nori's chest that was starting to dew with sweat, running his thumb lightly under his collarbone, across the marks of his teeth.  
 _His_ Dwarf.  
He dipped the fingers of his free hand in the salve, spreading a thin coat on his hand before he took a gentle grip on Nori's half-mast erection, his thief preferred a light hand here. Dwalin stroked softly, not nearly hard enough to bring him off.  
Nori gasped up into it, soundless, and Dwalin judged him ready. He curled his fingers back up, returning to the slow circles, and Nori spit silent words at him, entire body shaking, and Dwalin smiled as he watched his thief's pleasure, watching what _he_ could do to _his_ Dwarf that _no one_ else did. He was stone-hard, aching to go inside, to be closer than close, but he waited until Nori's head fell backward, chest heaving, teeth bared as his mouth opened into a scream, his body clenching down on Dwalin's fingers.  
Dwalin froze, uncurling his fingers to take the pressure off, pinching at the base of Nori's erection, refusing him his climax, holding his thief still when he would have ground himself to completion on Dwalin's hand.  
Nori was half-insensible with lust and rage, but he didn't forget to be silent even as he screamed at Dwalin, likely something along the lines of 'fuck you, you bastard son of whores', which was one of his favorites in moments like this. Dwalin slowly slid his fingers out, watching Nori's face crumple in a sob at the emptiness. He grabbed up an indecently large scoop of salve, spreading it thick on his erection, and Nori had pulled himself together just enough to pounce on him, straddling him, sinking himself down on Dwalin's erection in a single smooth motion, tremors running through his whole body as he sagged against Dwalin's chest, arms around Dwalin's neck and his breath trembling hot on his collarbone.  
He forced himself to breathe evenly, jaw clenching as he forced himself not to groan at the exquisite tight heat. He wanted nothing more in the world than to pin Nori to the floor and fuck him as hard as he possibly could, but the creak of the floorboards and the smack of their bodies would give them away... and he needed to wait for Nori to adjust, rubbed slow circles on his thief's beautiful muscular back and held _still_.  
Finally, _finally_ , Nori nodded, and Dwalin grabbed his hips, guiding him in a slow grind, his thief adjusting the angle of his hips until he found the sweet spot, his body tensing, squeezing on Dwalin, hands clenching in Dwalin's hair, nails scratching deep into his shoulders.  
Dwalin leaned down to bite Nori's shoulder, holding in the deep groans that fought to escape, feeling Nori's body arch in response, and he picked up his pace, going as fast as he dared, any faster and the soft sounds would carry and they _could not_ be discovered.  
Nori's breaths would have been whimpers had they made a sound... his thief _so_ close, but with not quite enough stimulation to push him over. He finally let go of Dwalin's neck with one hand, bringing it down between their bodies to stroke himself hard and fast, breath choking off as he finally spent between them, mouth open in a silent cry, his body clenching down impossibly tight on Dwalin as he spasmed, arching and bucking through his completion, and somehow remembering not to make a sound, and making sure he didn't accidentally kick the floor.  
Dwalin didn't slacken his pace, so close, so _close_ , still biting and sucking at the spot on Nori's shoulder, breath coming out ragged through his nose, feeling the tightness in his stomach and thighs... so _close!  
_ Nori reached up and tugged on his nipple ring, pleasure intense to the edge of pain racing through him, and _finally_ spilling over.  
He crushed Nori in his arms as tight as he could, clinging to his thief as he spent, hardly daring to breathe as he held as still as he could, body shaking through his completion... and Nori was petting him, hand running soothingly across his back, nuzzling his face against Dwalin's neck under his beard.  
Dwalin finally released Nori, feeling slightly guilty as he saw the deep purple bruise he'd left on Nori's shoulder, sagging to the floor in the tangled blankets, and his thief followed, sprawling across him, nimble fingers running across Dwalin's features, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and gentle.  
“have to go...” Nori whispered, and Dwalin nodded, gesturing toward the pitcher of water and cloths the inn provided. Nori nodded, and made sure he did not cast a shadow on the blanket-covered window as he made his way to the dresser, pouring water into the bowl, putting a cloth in it and returning to sit beside Dwalin. He sat, wiping himself down briefly, rinsing the cloth out, using it to tenderly clean Dwalin too, smiling down as he ran his hands across his broad chest, hard stomach, big biceps.  
He took the bowl back to the dresser, then snuck up on the candle from an angle that would cast the least shadow, and blew it out. Dwalin didn't resist as Nori prodded him toward the bed, let his thief tuck him in as though he were a darrow, kissing him softly again, warm yielding lips and gentle tongue.  
“only you.” Nori whispered, resting their foreheads together, then crept to the window, taking down his blanket and rolling it back into his light pack, slinging it over his shoulder and sliding out the window and away.  
It had been stupid. It had been dangerous.  
Dwalin smiled and didn't care.  
Nori had fucked more Dwarves than Dwalin could count, and he still _might_ be fucking more, Dwalin didn't really want to _ask_ , didn't want to _know_... but only _he_ made love to his thief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to be silent during sex is frustrating.
> 
> Now with excellent artwork:  
> Non-smutty:  
> [Pensive Dwalin by nowitsaparty](http://nowitsaparty.tumblr.com/post/46719112101/a-tiny-part-of-this-amazing-chapter-of)  
> Slightly smutty:  
> [Cleanup by nowitsaparty](http://nowitsaparty.tumblr.com/post/47514257252/more-from-jealous-dwalin-heh-random-fluff-c)  
> Smutty:  
> [Chapter Seven by illputanarrowinyoureye](http://illputanarrowinyoureye.tumblr.com/post/45477181875/axe-omakes-chapter-7-by-thorinsmut)  
> and, for extra hotness: [Nori Blowjob by illputanarrowinyoureye](http://illputanarrowinyoureye.tumblr.com/post/45499955921/chapter7-axe-omakes-by-thorinsmut-nori-dwalin)


	14. Don't hurt my thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Epilogue of [Axe](../../673882) I wrote: 
> 
> _Sometimes when the thief is arrested, he is beaten by the guards. Those guards tend to have a sudden encounter with an angry giant on a dark street.  
>  The injuries take months to heal._
> 
> I was, once upon a time, asked to write that, and I finally had a good idea for it so I did.

“I have to get arrested.” Nori said, as though it were a perfectly normal thing to say, curled in Dwalin's arms as they came down together from a rough-but-quiet fuck in Dwalin's inn room.

“No.” Dwalin said, holding his thief tighter.

“I _have_ to.” Nori said, angling his face up to kiss Dwalin, “I'm not hearing things I need to hear.” he explained. His bright hazel eyes had gone distant, Dwalin could see that he was already far away, planning.

“Be careful?” he asked, and Nori laughed.

“It's just an arrest, I get arrested all the time.” he said, “I'll get myself out in a few days. Don't worry.”

Dwalin nodded and didn't argue any more, much as he wanted to. Nori hadn't been arrested since he began working for King Dain – at least not that Dwalin knew of.

He didn't like it. At all.

He _knew_ what sort of things could happen to an arrested criminal, and of course he knew that _Nori_ knew a lot more than he did about corrupt guards and bad prisons, about all the horrible things that could happen to a person.

Nori poked Dwalin in the side as he got himself dressed with a small smile, “There's not a prison built that can hold me.” He reminded, “This'll be nothing.”

Dwalin nodded and grabbed his thief for one last long hard kiss before he disappeared himself out into the city again.

“I love you.” he said.

Nori nodded, “...you too.” He said, and then he was out the window and over the roof and gone in the dark – and Dwalin was left alone to worry.

 

It was four agonizing days later when Nori slid silently through the back entrance of the tavern he and Dwalin had both taken to frequenting. Dwalin kept up near the front where the more-honorable-but-still-dishonest Dwarves gathered – Nori stuck to the back where Dwarves who had once _heard_ about honor but mistook it for a bad joke congregated.

Dwalin didn't let the intensity of his relief show on his face as he caught sight of the familiar red-brown peaks of his thief's hair. He drank his ale and kept his eyes traveling across the whole tavern and not pinned to the one Dwarf he wanted to see.

When he finally allowed his eyes to travel back to Nori it took all his control not to react. One whole half of Nori's face was a deep purple bruise – his eye nearly swollen shut, and his motions were a little stiff.

The grip Nori had on his mug was the 'I'm leaving town' one, as though everything were _fine_ even though it clearly was _not_. Dwalin could feel the slow rage building up behind his eyes, crawling up his spine as he fought to contain it.

He _knew_ how strong Nori was, how hard it was to hurt his thief, _knew_ how hard and repeatedly he would have had to be hit to have injuries like that.

He spun his mug around, wrapping his hand around it and lifting it with the handle pointed toward Nori. He downed it and slammed it down on his table empty before stomping out of the tavern back to his inn room.

Pointing the handle at Nori meant 'come see me', and Nori would understand the emphasis meant _now_.

Dwalin had started to worry that Nori wasn't going to show up when his thief finally slunk in through the window.

“Who did this?” he said, keeping his anger controlled, his hand almost-but-not-quite touching the bruises on Nori's face.

“It's nothing...” Nori shrugged.

“It _isn't_ nothing!” Dwalin growled, “Where else are you hurt?” he began to pat Nori down. Nori shoved his hands away, but not before Dwalin saw him flinch from the touch to his back and side.

“I'm _fine_.” Nori said.

“No.” Dwalin disagreed. “No, you're...”

“I _know_ how to take a beating.” Nori said impatiently, “I've had worse. This is nothing, just bruises.”

Dwalin didn't want to think about that. Didn't _want_ to think about a life where knowing how to take a beating was necessary, where being bruised across at least half a body was considered _nothing_ – He was supposed to _protect_ Nori now, give him a _good_ life where being beaten wasn't just a _thing that happened_ sometimes.

He pulled his thief gently toward himself, held Nori against his chest softly – kept him close without hurting him.

“Who did this?” he asked, “And why?”

Nori leaned into him with a sigh, “I resisted arrest, of course.” he said, “The guards were... _more enthusiastic_ than I expected. Should have chosen a different pair to catch me.” He snorted derisively, “I could have escaped four different ways _before_ they ever got me to the jail. It was _embarrassing_ to let them take me in.”

Dwalin didn't let Nori side-track him. “Where do I find them?” he asked.

“You can't...” Nori started, but Dwalin growled low in his chest and his thief relented, telling him the names and appearance of the two guards, and where they patrolled.

“Be _careful_.” Nori urged him, and Dwalin brushed his lips whisper-gentle across Nori's heavy-bruised face.

“More careful than _you_ were.” He promised, which made Nori laugh a little, the unbruised side of his mouth lifting in a smile. He adjusted the sparse pack of his belongings and was gone out the window again.

 

A few nights later two enthusiastic hot-headed young city guards were found on the doorstep of the guardhouse healer, thrashed to within an inch of their lives.

All they could remember later, when their superiors questioned them, was hearing a noise down a dark alley and then being attacked by a giant shadow with fists like iron and a roar like a wild beast that threw them around like puppets and didn't seem to feel any chance blow they happened to land on it.

 

Very early the next morning Dwalin and the royal guards under his command left the city surrounding the envoy they were charged with protecting.

They all noticed the black eye Dwalin was sporting, but only one of the royal guards was brave enough to mention it.

“A drunkard took a swing at me last night.” he explained.

His knuckle-dusters were very shiny, as though he'd spent the previous evening cleaning them, and there was an air of _satisfaction_ around him that could not be explained.


	15. Knife Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I just make knives fluffy? I think I just made knives fluffy.  
> Fluffy knives.  
> It is now a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote [The Rules](../../680732/chapters/1318919) which was very sad, and then Greenkangaroo asked on Tumblr if Dwalin would ever hear the story. My first reaction was 'of course not', but then I realized that he would if Nori still carried the knife.  
> So this happened and it's all greenkangaroo's fault.

Dwalin carried his history on his skin, in ink and scars. Nori carried his in his knives. Dwalin had learned that one of the only ways to get Nori to talk about his past was to ask about his knives, while Nori had learned that one of the best ways to get Dwalin to talk was to ask about his tattoos.  
It became a ritual, of sorts. When they had time and privacy enough Nori would place a hand on a scar or tattoo, or Dwalin would pick out a knife, and ask for the story.  
Dwalin slowly undressed his thief, feeling his heart clench at the _trust_ that Nori gave him as he removed layer after layer, took away knife after knife, until Nori was sprawled across the inn's bed wearing nothing but his final layer of knives, the ones he kept strapped to his skin.  
He stopped there, just _looking,_ enjoying the view of lean muscles and gleaming knives and flowing red-brown hair. Nori grinned, a cocky flashing of teeth, pulling him in for a hard kiss as the thief's clever fingers worked at removing Dwalin's clothes too.  
They lay facing one another, kissing and biting one another's lips until they were breathless, Dwalin's hands running over muscles and knives as he tried to choose one. He rearranged Nori so he was laying on his back, and his thief allowed it. He pulled out the knife that Nori wore diagonally across his heart, a smaller blade but clearly made for a larger hand than Nori's. Dwalin had the feeling this would be a 'someone tried to kill me, but I killed them first' knife acquisition story, and not an 'it was pretty so I stole it', or an 'I wanted a knife like this so I commissioned it with stolen gold' story.  
“Tell me about this one.” he said, and Nori tensed in the way that made Dwalin want to pull him in close but had learned was the wrong response. Instead he loosened his grip on the smaller Dwarf, drawing back slightly. Only when Nori let out a deep breath and turned in toward him did Dwalin pull him in as tight as he wanted.  
The story came out, Nori's dismissive tone belied by the way he held onto Dwalin.  
Beaten and left for dead, by two who claimed to love him, two the thief had trusted. Two he had then quietly hunted down and quickly assassinated.  
Dwalin didn't give the knife back when the story was over, the way he usually did. Instead he flung it across the room, let it sink thrumming into the wooden wall, and abandoned any plans he'd had for a long gentle lovemaking. Nori was looking halfway like he wanted to run.  
“Get the salve.” He growled, and Nori complied with an eager gleam in his eyes.  
Dwalin fucked his thief viciously, until not even the pillows Nori buried his face in could contain his screams.  
Nori crawled over to lay on his chest when they were done, and Dwalin knew it had been just what his thief needed.  
When Nori had to leave again, and pried the knife out of the wall, tucking it into the sheath across his heart, Dwalin felt a surge of anger. If Nori hadn't already taken care of it, Dwalin probably would have tried to hunt down and kill the two thieves who'd hurt him.

 It was several months later, at their home in Erebor, when they had time and privacy again. Dwalin stopped Nori most of the way through undressing, plucking away the knife that lay across his thief's heart, ignoring Nori's small sound of protest as he dropped it and stomped on it against the stone floor with his heavy boots so it shattered into pieces. He pulled a nearly identically sized knife, but made for Nori's hand, out of his pack and placed it in the sheath.  
Nori's eyebrows raised in surprise, and Dwalin turned away, undressing himself as Nori inspected his newest acquisition.  
Dwalin had made it himself, the blade part at least, and it bore his maker's mark, stamped into the metal.  
For the hilt he'd needed to consult with three other craftsmen, as well as Oin, to be sure he got right. It was inlaid in gold and tiny emeralds, in the pattern of a knot.  
“Beloved.” Nori read, quietly. He walked around in front of Dwalin, testing the weight and balance of the blade and looking pleased with what he found. He placed the knife back in the sheath across his heart, a small smile on his lips as he took off all the rest of his knives.  
“I love you.” he whispered, kissing Dwalin gently, leading him toward their bed, “I love you, I love you, I love you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is art for this chapter!  
> [Knife Stories by mia-newarcher](http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/45075479971/axe-omakes-ch-5-knife-stories-by-thorinsmut)


	16. Sleeping Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dori and Nethanu are adorable together.
> 
> Contains cuddles and smooches.

The first time Nethanu slept with Dori (and that's actual _sleep_ and not a euphemism, _Nori_ ) it was because some of the Mirkwood ambassadors had been saying cruel things to the little cook, and he was just too miserable to face going back there.

It was actually very pleasant to fall asleep and wake up with the Elf curled around him. Nethanu smiled at him when he saw that Dori was awake and pressed a light kiss directly to his cheek – the first time he'd done that.

He blushed bright pink, and Dori smiled, giving him a caress to his soft hairless cheek that only made the Elf blush harder.

Ori made no comment when Nethanu was in the kitchen helping Dori make breakfast, his clothes rumpled from sleeping in them. Ori and Nethanu talked about the library – discussing some of the Elvish histories Ori was restoring – before Nethanu had to leave to go cook for the Mirkwood ambassadors.

The fifth time Nethanu slept with Dori, Dori spent the next morning ordering himself a bigger bed. There was something undeniably _cute_ about seeing Nethanu curled in the short bed like an overgrown puppy, but it could not be comfortable for him. Being absurdly wealthy meant that he could order a custom-made bed frame and a Man-sized mattress to go on it and expect to have them by the end of the week, and nobody said a word wondering _why_ he needed such a thing.

Being known as a hero of Erebor and being the strongest Dwarf _in_ Erebor made it so nobody said a word to him about his friendship with an Elf.

Nethanu was not so lucky.

The first time they slept together in the new big bed was because a couple Dwarves had been yelling abuse at Nethanu in the street.

Nethanu wrapped his slender body around Dori and held on tight, as though Dori were the only anchor in his world. Other than Dori and Ori and a few of the more open-minded regulars in the tea shop, Nethanu had no friends in Erebor.

It would not do at all.

Dori would not stand for the sweet Elf being insulted in the street.

They cuddled until Nethanu fell asleep, and in the morning Dori asked Nethanu if he could brush and braid his hair.

He marked Nethanu as family, so that an insult to him was an insult to Dori, the patriarch of the family.

He could do nothing about the casual cruelty of the Mirkwood ambassadors, but he could make sure that any Dwarf would think twice before shouting abuse at him in the street.

When he was done, Nethanu admired himself in the mirror and smiled, touching his braids. He kissed Dori on the lips for the first time, the very lightest brushing of lips, blushing bright and hurrying out of the room to go start breakfast.

Ori disguised his surprise at the meaning of the braids as admiration for them. The look he gave Dori was surprised but pleased. He _liked_ Nethanu almost as much as Dori did.

The braids put a stop to Nethanu being harassed by Dwarves, but he didn't stop sleeping with Dori.

Nethanu bringing over a few changes of clothes morphed into Nethanu only keeping a few pairs in the Elf Ambassador's quarters because he slept with Dori every night.

(and that _still_ means 'sleeping' _Nori_ )

Over the months they had both grown comfortable enough in each other's presence to sleep in fewer clothes, so they both slept nearly naked. Nethanu's smooth near-hairlessness had taken some getting used to, but once he'd gotten used the the physical differences Dori found that he very much liked Nethanu as a sleeping companion. It was wonderfully comfortable to wake up with his long body wrapped around Dori like a blanket.

Dori could spend hours running his hands over Nethanu's velvety skin, and Nethanu in turn seemed to never tire of combing his fingers through the thick silvered hair that covered Dori's body. Dori had never had a partner as eager for touch as the young Elf, and Dori was happy to give it to him. The affectionate closeness was always what he liked best with the few discreet lovers he'd managed to take around his family responsibilities.

(yes, discreet, _Nori_ , the way it's _supposed to be_ )

Dori taught Nethanu how to kiss. He was awkward at first, of course, but eager to learn. His smooth beardless face was sometimes a little disconcerting, childlike coupled with his inexperience, and he _was_ young for an Elf.

Dori sometimes wondered if he ought not, if he were taking advantage... if he were doing the same thing as the Dwarves who'd been with Nori when he was not-quite-fifty.

Dori did not push for more than snuggling and kisses. He'd never been a Dwarf graced with a high libido – while coupling could be extremely pleasant, affection was what he liked best. He would go so far as to say that Nethanu was the most satisfying lover he'd ever had, despite the fact that they had never 'made love'. There was no better way to start the day than waking up with Nethanu's long limbs tangled around him. There was no better way to end the day than with slow leisurely kisses and falling asleep with his arms around his Elf. There was no better breakfast than one shared with Nethanu. There was no better day at work than one spent moving around one another, trading soft touches and quiet words.

Dori would be the first to admit that he was in love with Nethanu. He'd had lovers before, and he had loved them, but nothing quite like what he felt for his sweet Elf.

Dori leaned against Nethanu as he knitted, both of them snuggled up together on Nethanu's cushion.

Nethanu untangled his fingers from the lock of Dori's hair he'd teased free and absently turned a page in his book before draping his arm back around Dori.

The fire crackled in the quiet house, warm and comfortable.

Dori smiled as he shifted himself to cuddle in just a _tiny_ bit closer to his Elf.

Nothing could be more perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I tried to write some smut but Dori informed me that no.  
> You get cuteness instead.


	17. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin and Nori are working on a mission again, and must pretend to be strangers.  
> Nori has some fun with it.  
> (AKA: SMUT)

Night after night, the Dwarf who was not known as Nori sat in the seedy tavern getting his new 'friends' drunk and daring them to do things... embarrassing things, silly things, dumb things... sexual things...  
Night after night he bragged about his sexual exploits.  
Night after night, he watched the big glowering tattooed guard watch him, and knew that Dwalin was wondering what his new game was.  
 _it's simple  
this mission has dragged on for far too long  
you need to get fucked  
and not some brief, silent, secret lovemaking in his room at the inn  
you need to get _ fucked _, long and hard and vicious  
no worrying about being overheard, no worrying about hiding the marks afterward  
nothing but sweat and fire, muscles and teeth and all that raw animal power  
_ Night after night, Nori dared his 'friends' to do things – but never took a dare himself.  
It took them two weeks to catch on, and then they conspired to get revenge by figuring out a really terrible dare for him. They waited until they thought he was really drunk  
 _as if you would waste this chance on drunk sex  
_ and dared him to make a pass at the scariest Dwarf in the tavern, and to follow through if he was accepted.  
He argued about it with them, sloshing his ale and trying to convince them that other Dwarves were scarier than Dwalin, but the more he argued the more firm they became. They began to threaten to disbelieve all his stories of his past exploits if he didn't, so he relented. Wagers were made, and he bet heavily on being accepted.  
The smart money was going on him being knocked out cold with a single blow from those fierce knuckledusters.  
Nori got up and made his way through the tavern, weaving slightly, looking much drunker than he was and knowing that Dwalin would know it.  
He stumbled, catching himself on Dwalin's table, made brief eye contact with a slight smile as he righted himself and moved away toward the bar, running his fingertips over the tabletop and giving one last glance over his shoulder as he swaggered away.  
He saw the surprised question in Dwalin's eyes, underneath the glower.  
Nori came back from the bar with two tankards of ale, sipped at one while he put the other in front of Dwalin, lying himself out on his side across the table in the process, smiling.  
“Hello guard-boy.” He said, warmly, taking another long sip of his ale, giving Dwalin a good up-and-down look with an appreciative 'mmm', setting his ale to the side as he licked his lips.  
Dwalin had gone stock-still, red climbing his cheeks, fists clenching, nostrils flaring as his breath quickened.  
The bets were now flying hard and fast that Nori would be killed on the spot.  
 _it looks angry, but that's pure lust  
oh yes please, thank Mahal  
you've got him  
_ “My friends don't think I can get you to fuck me.” Nori commented.  
Dwalin's jaw clenched, “Married.” he growled.  
“So'm I, So'm I...” Nori agreed, flicking the little red bead behind his ear, “but what they don't know never hurt 'em, did it?” he leaned in closer, flashing a smile that was all shark. Dwalin flushed redder, muscles tensing, just a touch of anger in his lust. The bright shiver of anticipation curled tighter in Nori's gut.  
 _yesyesyes, it's going to be so good  
so rough and so wild and _ so _good the way only he can do it  
_ “I'm _married_.” Dwalin restated, firmly.  
 _he's playing it perfectly  
_ “To what...” Nori reached out to touch his knotted gold bead, got his hand swatted away, “Some fussy little knotmaker?” he fluttered his eyes while he mimed swooning, “You should try fucking a _real_ Dwarf.” he challenged.  
Dwalin growled, a low, animal warning that sent shivers all the way through Nori, and he smiled harder, picking up his ale to take a sip.  
“...unless you don't think you're Dwarf enough to _handle_ me... guard-boy.” he said, lightly.  
Dwalin surged to his feet, fists clenched, and Nori had bounced to his at the same time. His giant loomed over him, snarling down at him. Nori didn't stop smiling. His 'friends' gasped, finally seeing exactly _how_ big Dwalin was, they watched in breathless silence as Dwalin reached one enormous hand around Nori's neck, big fingers pressing into the back of his neck as Dwalin's thumb ran up his throat, Nori letting out a tiny involuntary whimper of need as the thumb climbed to the underside of his chin, pushing his face upward until Dwalin's hot breath was panting down on his face, those heavy-browed blue eyes burning down on him.  
“I would _break_ you, pretty boy.” Dwalin snarled down at him.  
 _that voice, that voice, it's so perfect  
and he smells so good, it's been so long  
he knows _ exactly _what he's doing to you  
please please please with the fucking now  
you need him, you need him so bad  
_ “I'd like it if you _tried._ ” Nori grinned, watched Dwalin's pupils widen with lust , and then he was being kissed hard, teeth biting into his lips, Dwalin's tongue thrusting fast and hard into his mouth, enormous arms crushing him into his giant's hard torso.  
He was aware that his moan was utterly indecent for a public place, as was the way he was grinding himself against Dwalin, arms wrapped around the guardsman, clawing at his broad back through his clothes.  
 _missed this  
missed this so much  
get him naked and pounding inside you and his hands in your hair and his teeth in your skin  
yesyesyes  
_ They finally broke apart, both panting. Nori laughed breathlessly, blatantly adjusting his erection in his pants.  
“You take that upstairs or outside!” The barmaid shouted to them.  
“How much for a room?” Dwalin snapped back, eyes never leaving Nori, a hand wrapping around his arm in a bruising grip, as though he were worried Nori were going to try to back out.  
Dwalin threw the asked-for coin to the barmaid, got a room key thrown back.  
“Impatient, guard-boy?” Nori asked, swaggering along beside Dwalin as his giant dragged him toward the stairs.  
Dwalin just growled at him, eyes on fire. Bets were now being made about how injured Nori would be at the end of the encounter. Nori placed a bet on 'just fine'.  
“Take halfsies with you!” One of Nori's 'friends' offered Dwalin, “Keep that smart mouth of his quiet for you...”  
Nori raised a braided eyebrow at Dwalin as though he were considering it, grinning, watched that predictable spark of possessive rage, Dwalin's hand tightening on his arm.  
“I'd like to hear him _scream_.” Dwalin snarled down at Nori.  
 _yes, please  
_ Nori flashed a victorious smile to his 'friends' as he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs and out of view.  
As soon as the door was locked behind them, Dwalin grabbed Nori by the front of the tunic and slammed him hard against the wall, crushing into him with his whole body, kisses hard and hungry as he ground his erection into him.  
“guard-boy?” Dwalin hissed between kisses, “really? this is a _stupid_ plan.”  
“shut up and fuck me.” Nori hissed back, “took me _weeks_ to set this up.”  
Dwalin pushed away, fighting with his straps and buckles as Nori started to shrug out of his clothes, keeping his knives and things hidden... keeping in character as a stranger.  
Dwalin watched him undress, stroking himself slowly, Nori took a scoop of salve for himself and threw the tin to him, leaning back against the wall as he prepared himself, pressing his fingers inside, forcing himself to go slowly.  
 _can't rush this part, much as you want to, much as you need him  
can't rush  
have to be ready before he can fuck you  
_ Dwalin moved in front of him, one hand on the wall beside his head, the other on Nori's body, rough callused fingers running up his stomach, across his nipples, his collarbone, up his throat.  
Nori moaned into the touch, his own free hand running up his giant's broad chest, tugging lightly at the thick thatch of hair.  
“Hair?” Dwalin breathed, and Nori nodded. He'd taken the precaution of getting his things out of it, anticipating this. His giant groaned as he dug his fingers into the back of Nori's hair, grabbing a big handful and pulling Nori's head back, exposing his throat, planting bites down it, each one a bright shock of pleasure and he could feel the whimpers pulling out of his throat as his body clenched down on his fingers.  
 _can't wait any longer  
ready enough  
_ “Now.” Nori ordered, voice rough, wrapping his legs around Dwalin's torso, arms around his neck. Dwalin rested their foreheads together as he guided himself to his entrance, pressing slowly but inexorably inward.  
Nori groaned deep when his body finally yielded and Dwalin slid inside, feeling Dwalin's answering growl as he froze, waiting.  
“easy, easy now...” Nori moaned, “Mahal above you're so _big_... easy...” Dwalin didn't need the instruction to go slow, but anyone overhearing wouldn't know that.  
 _have to treat this as a one-off  
have to treat him as a stranger  
_ He bore down, working himself down gradually while Dwalin growled impatiently, fingers clenching and unclenching in Nori's hair, sharp little pulls that only added to the delicious intensity.  
Dwalin kissed him again when he had finally taken all of the guardsman inside, crushing him against the wall, mouth hot and demanding against his own, his giant devouring his sharp moans - Dwalin's hips making tiny thrusts into him as his body fought to adjust to the intrusion, not enough motion to hurt, just enough to hold him on the ragged edge, just enough to keep him from adjusting fully, just as much intensity as he could bear and no more.  
 _knows you too well, damn him, damn him  
so good  
he's going to kill you  
_ Finally, Dwalin ground himself in deep and stopped, pulling back from the kiss so Nori's half-sobbed whimpers echoed out into the room.  
“You cry _so_ nice...” he smirked, as though he wasn't trembling with need, as though he wasn't just as desperate as Nori was. Nori gave him a death-glare as he tried to breathe. Dwalin's fingers were digging into his hair, undoing the braids, whisper-quiet moans under his breath as he ran his fingers through it.  
“All right _guard-boy_...” Nori growled when he finally had his breath back, when he was finally ready, “You better fuck me hard enough to make it worth my time.”  
Dwalin smiled, a hard flash of teeth with his eyes burning, and Nori had half a heartbeat to thank all the life choices and any Gods who might have been involved in bringing him here, to this place, in this moment, with this Dwarf – before the world turned into a crashing flurry of limbs and teeth and pleasure.  
 _YES!  
_ His giant spun him around and threw him back against the wall with a feral roar, face in Nori's hair, teeth in his neck, big hands hard and unforgiving on his hips as he slammed his way back home, setting a punishing pace – the deep pleasure growing in a fierce wave.  
“yes,yes,yes!” Nori was vaguely aware that his voice was cresting on a shout, the acute pleasure building, and then Dwalin was _gone_ and he gasped heartbroken into the emptiness.  
He was grabbed and thrown to the floor, rolling on instinct, and Dwalin grabbed him, pinning him facedown with his forearm across his shoulders, lifting his hips into the air... and a pause, the sound of the salve tin moving...  
 _no, no no stopping  
moremoremoremoremore  
_ “Mahal, please.” he gasped, every muscle in his body trembling as he waited for...  
Dwalin rammed his way back inside, huge and slick, Nori screaming once sharply against the floor as he set the pace harder and faster than before.  
 _perfect, perfect, perfect, yeesssssss  
_ Dwalin's fingers were twisting and pulling in his hair, lifting him up so the giant could bite across his shoulders and up the tender sides of his neck, the light pain jolting bright through him, the hard smack of their bodies driving together and the deep pounding bringing the aborted wave of pleasure crashing back faster and fiercer than before, so _good_ , so _close_ but not enough alone, not _quite_ enough.  
He could feel it in the tensing of Dwalin's body behind him, his sharp ragged breaths, he would not last much longer.  
His giant released Nori's hip and reached around him, wrapping his enormous rough hand loosely around his erection, thumb rubbing a slow circle on its head as he let every thrust of his hips push Nori against the hand.  
“Scream for me, pretty boy.” Dwalin growled, teeth sharp on his neck, giving his erection a squeeze, the building pleasure _finally_ breaking over Nori, near-blinding in its intensity, white-hot radiating through him as he spent into Dwalin's hand, and he did not disappoint in the request to scream, hearing Dwalin's hoarse bellow and feeling the slick wash of heat as his giant finished right behind him.  
 _oh yes, oh yes yes  
so good  
missed this so much  
_ They crumpled to the floor together, Dwalin landing on his shoulder with a loud thump, wrapping his arms around Nori to cushion his fall. He lay with his face buried in Nori's hair as they spooned, catching their breaths as the sweat slowly cooled on their bodies.  
 _nothing, nothing is better in the world  
_ “Love you.” Dwalin muttered into Nori's hair.  
“mmm” Nori agreed, pulling himself out of Dwalin's arms, turning to give him a soft kiss, rubbing noses affectionately.  
“love you.” he murmured in Dwalin's ear, then set about the task of cleaning up while Dwalin did the same.  
Nori was dressed first, but waited politely for Dwalin to be at least mostly dressed too before he opened the door.  
“Much obliged, guard-boy.” He grinned, leaving with a pronounced swagger and his hair all loose and tangled around him.  
Nori was greeted by cheers and looks of disbelief that he was _walking_ after a fuck that loud and violent when he reached the tavern floor. They had clearly all heard each crash and shout.  
“Unbreakable!” He shouted, pounding himself across the chest with his fist before he raised it in victory, to more cheers. He hopped up on his table to sit, snapping his fingers and pointing to the spot beside himself.  
“Money!” he ordered, and his 'friends' grumbled as they paid his bet winnings. Nori took out his comb and began brushing the tangles out of his hair, enjoying the admiring and envious glances his hair was getting.  
He was still perched on the table, running his comb through his hair with coins falling beside him when Dwalin made his way downstairs. There was an attempt at a second cheer, but the guard's ferocious glare quelled it.  
Nori smiled beatifically at Dwalin, who glowered back, shaking his head in disbelief, and stomped out of the tavern.  
 _could not have gone better_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art!  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/46084222252/axe-omakes-chpt-10-by-thorinsmut  
> 


	18. More Knife Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, apparently I lied about not having any more headcanons for this fic... it seems all I needed was a break and now my cannons are recharged with angst and smut.  
> Today... angst.  
> Nori tells Dwalin the story of his very best killing knife. It is not a happy story. 
> 
> !!!WARNINGS!!!  
> RAPE/NON-CON THIS CHAPTER!  
> MURDER  
> DEATH  
> SADISM  
> ... should also probably warn about practicing stabbing cadavers...
> 
> (don't worry, Nori doesn't die. Not gonna do that twice) (Or... three times, that is...) 
> 
> This chapter might not play well with established timelines.

“Choose a different blade.”

Nori's voice was quiet, but it froze Dwalin where his hand was resting on the knife nestled against his thief's spine. Nori had never shied away from telling him a knife's story.

He instead chose a knife with unusual craftsmanship that rested on Nori's thigh, and was told a story about finding a human smith in a tiny Eastern village who made knives of such unique design that Nori just _had_ to have one.

It was good work for human make, and it was lovely, and Dwalin put it back in its place and admired his thief dressed in nothing but knives – beautiful and deadly, as he should be – and made love to him, and did not ask about the knife against his spine.

 

Dwalin never asked about the knife, but Nori felt his hand pause on it, now and then, and he always had an excuse why not to just tell him to choose it.

He knew he _would_ tell him the story, eventually. There was no reason not to.

It was just a knife.

It was just a story.

There was no reason not to.

 

Dwalin was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his boots off, when Nori stopped in front of him, pulled the knife from the back of his tunic, and placed it in Dwalin's hands.

It was long and thin, grooved along the blade, with a slight curve to it, unusual in a dwarf-made blade – which it clearly was. The workmanship was excellent, and it was fantastically sharp – Nori did not carry dull knives, but this one felt as though it would cut the very air.

“I'm not going to let you break _this_ knife.” Nori said, “It's the very best killing knife, unique in all the world. He killed the smith he had make it, which tells you a little about the kind of Dwarf he was.”

Dwalin did not know why Nori had chosen this moment to tell the story. They were home in Erebor, and they had no responsibilities for the rest of the day, so there was no reason not to, but it was not their usual pattern.

Dwalin hadn't been going to ask about it, and he could see the discomfort in Nori's shoulders, but his thief wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't want to.

“Did you ever wonder how I learned to be silent through _anything_?” Nori asked. “Did you ever wonder how I know _so_ many ways to kill?”

Dwalin did remember wondering that, and he remembered deciding that he probably didn't want to know.

He nodded.

Nori sat beside him, took the knife back, “I owe my life to the things he taught me, so many times over... but he thought he could own me.” he said.

 

They'd warned him against the assassin, Dwarves who remembered the Dwarf who'd sired him and cared a little for his well-being. They warned him to stay away, that he was dangerous... but he knew things that Nori didn't, and Nori was curious, and Nori was young and reckless and had never been hurt.

He lay himself across the table in front of the assassin, taking a long drink of his ale while he placed a second mug in front of the assassin... he lowered his mug, smiling and making full eye contact as he licked the froth from his upper lip.

“Hello.” he said, warmly.

The assassin looked him over appraisingly.

“It's my turn, is it?” he grinned.

“I want to know _everything_ you can teach me.” Nori purred, and he was too pleased with how eager the assassin looked to see the possessive gleam in his eye.

 

Nori was sick the first time they carved a cadaver up together, and the assassin laughed at his weak stomach, and Nori learned a lot about how bodies were put together. He hadn't been bad at fighting with knives before, in a style designed to disarm or injure an opponent... with the assassin he learned to use them with surgical precision.

Nori didn't ask where the cadavers came from.

The assassin had him practice various killing and maiming blows, and then they would take the body apart to see how well he'd done, and then they'd dispose of it... Nori learned many ways of getting rid of a body.

 

“Killing isn't my favorite.” Nori said, stabbing gracefully in front of him in the air with the knife, “I'm good at it but I don't _like_ it.”

 

The assassin spoke poetically of the pleasure of killing, of taking a life, as Nori practiced screaming noiselessly and the assassin practiced giving pain without doing damage.

The assassin enjoyed it.

Nori persevered because he could see how useful a skill it would be to have.

If he did well, the assassin would fuck him afterward.

 

“I don't like pain.” Nori said, glancing toward Dwalin and then half-shrugging, “I mean, I do... but not...”

“Not like that.” Dwalin said, “You're after the passion and intensity, not the pain for itself.”

Nori nodded.

 

The assassin's favorite was to grab Nori by the back of the head and fuck his throat while he jacked himself – and Nori didn't mind until things started to go bad and it was the _only_ way the assassin would have him, and the assassin didn't want to let him have anyone else.

 

Dwalin could feel his hands clenching into fists, but he did not say anything, did not want to disrupt the flow of the story that was clearly not easy for Nori to tell.

Nori had never _tried_ to swallow him down, and Dwalin didn't mind in the least because Nori was _so good_ with his tongue and lips and hands. Dwalin remembered the way Nori _smacked_ his hand away when, early in their relationship, he'd tried to affectionately pet his head while he sucked, and he thought of the way Nori absolutely refused to touch himself while he sucked, no matter how hard and turned-on he was.

Dwalin looked at the beautiful and deadly knife in Nori's hands, and he knew it was no use getting angry and wanting to kill the Dwarf who'd hurt his thief, because Nori carried the knives those who'd tried to kill him. No one survived trying to kill Nori.

If Nori had the knife, the Dwarf was long dead.

 

And it did go bad, just as he'd been warned, about the time Nori had learned all he liked and was ready to move on. The assassin grew angry whenever he found Nori flirting with someone else, and he grew angry when Nori planned thefts with other Dwarves.

He tried to place rules on Nori, and he grew angry when Nori refused, and he told Nori that he _belonged_ to him, that he had trained Nori to be an assassin and now Nori was _his_ , and that he was not to use his skills for petty theft.

 

“I hadn't been careful enough.” Nori said, quietly, “He knew who my family was. He said, if I ever disobeyed him, he'd...” Nori's eyes were far away as he clutched the hilt of the knife.

“He'd make Ori watch, before he...” Nori broke off, shaking his head.

“Ori was just little, just a kid, but he'd always had a gift with a quill.”

 

Nori had Ori forge a suicide note in the assassin's hand and hoped it was vague enough that Ori didn't know what it was he wrote.

The assassin had a lot more practice than Nori at killing, and avoiding being killed, and he didn't trust Nori; the only time he wasn't on his guard was when he was having sex, and then he'd have Nori naked and unarmed.

Nori waited for the right moment, and stole the assassin's second-favorite knife out of his boot while he was distracted with fucking Nori's throat.

In that moment, just after his climax, when the assassin was exhausted and not thinking clearly – tucking himself back into his pants – Nori rose from his knees and slid the knife into his heart where he sat.

 

“I looked him in the eye the entire time.” Nori said. “Neither of us made a sound... he looked so _surprised_.”

 

He probably could have killed Nori, if he'd gone for one of his own knives, but he didn't. He reached up to grab Nori's hands, and Nori wrapped the assassin's hands around the hilt of the knife, using his hands to give the knife that little twist he'd practiced so many times, shredding the already pierced heart, and letting the blood out in a gush.

The assassin had taught him well. He made sure he didn't leave any blood smudges that could have come from someone who wasn't the assassin. He left no sign that he'd been there at all. He left the suicide note, and he slid the assassin's favorite knife out of the back of his tunic and took it with him.

 

“He wasn't the first I'd ever killed, but never like that, before or since...” Nori said. “cold and... personal.” he shuddered.

“He threatened my brothers, and I watched the life fade out of his eyes.”

“I owe my life to what he taught me a thousand times over.”

Nori finally looked up, meeting Dwalin's eyes for the first time in the whole telling of the story. He put the knife back where it lived along his spine, where it nestled nearly imperceptible to a pat-down even if you were looking specifically for it.

“Now you know the worst of it.” he said, and he seemed to be waiting for a response, his shoulders hunched up with tension. Dwalin reached for him, and Nori paused for a moment before sighing and leaning into him. Dwalin wrapped his arms around his thief.

“I'm glad you killed him.” he said, and Nori nodded.

They sat quietly, the tension draining slowly from Nori's frame.

“I don't own you.” Dwalin added, quietly, “I want to hurt everyone who touches you, but if you told me to fuck off I would.”

“I know.” Nori said, almost a smile in his voice, and Dwalin held him tight, as though he could protect him from the ugliness of the world, though Nori was more than able to protect himself, but not so tight that he couldn't escape if he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm just going to post this before I talk myself out of it again.  
>  *flees*
> 
> ...and then I wrote it from the assassin's POV.   
> http://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/post/50183679926/so-this-one-time-i-wrote-a-really-awful-story


	19. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT
> 
> my fingers slipped and I accidentally size kink.

Dwalin moaned deep into the pillows as Nori sank slowly back into him, angling himself to rub across the sweet spot.

Dwalin was _perfect_ , salve-slick and hot and tight, with the strong muscles in his back and thighs tensing and trembling under Nori's appreciative eyes.

Nori caressed his giant's thigh affectionately as he drew himself gently back out, slow and smooth just the way Dwalin liked it to start.

“y'feel... _so_ big...” Dwalin groaned.

Nori laughed, “ _I'm_ big? From the biggest Dwarf I've ever _seen_?” He pressed himself back in just a bit faster, felt the vibrations of an answering moan almost too deep to hear.

“We ought to get you a Man next time we're in Dale,” Nori purred, “then you'd know _big_.”

Dwalin made a complicated noise, as though he were trying to make a moan come out sounding displeased and failing. Nori grinned, keeping his pace even, gripping Dwalin's hips firmly.

“I can just _picture_ it.” He said, “I'll be fucking you, on your knees just like this, getting you ready for him... and he's standing there watching, stroking himself, just waiting to get _inside_ of you.”

Dwalin made a sound that was very close to a whimper, his body tightening hard around Nori.

“And then when I'm done it's his turn, and you're all slick and stretched but it's not fuckin' _enough_ and he's _huge_.” Nori ground deep, “And he's pressing in bigger and bigger and I'm holding you, and rubbing your back while you just try to relax and take him all in.” Nori rubbed Dwalin's back, deep circles, returning to his gentle pace, fucking _his_ giant.

“Then you'd know big.” He said.

“nnn... never fit...” Dwalin groaned, rocking his hips back into Nori a little faster, and Nori picked up his pace to match it, rewarded by a heavy moan into the pillows.

“of course he'll fit.” Nori said, “If I can take one, _you_ could take one. Fuck, I wasn't even _full-grown_ first time I took a Man.”

This definitely caused a reaction, a hungry sound in Dwalin's throat as he tensed into Nori with his whole body. Nori moaned into the tightness and heat of Dwalin's body, they didn't do things this way often, but it was always _so good_ when they did.

“You like... hearing about that?” He asked, grinning, “A scrawny little thief, barely sixty and little for his age...”

Dwalin moaned, big muscles jumping and trembling, and Nori took that as a 'yes'.

“Got myself fucked by two Dwarves first, to get me ready, and it was still like I'd done _nothing_... and my friends were holding my hands and kissing me, looking out for me, but none of the four of us knew if it would even _work_... I took him slow, slow, slow... I'd _never_ been so stretched in all my life, half-terrified not knowing if it was going to fit or split me clear down the middle.”

Nori ran his thumb up Dwalin's spine, pressing deep. Dwalin pushed back hard against him and Nori breathed through his nose, listening to the helpless groans in Dwalin's breath and trying to hold on long enough to get Dwalin off first. He leaned forward over Dwalin's back, resting his forehead against his giant's sweat-beaded shoulder blades.

“It felt so damn _good_.” Nori groaned, reaching under Dwalin to take his erection in hand, stroking it in time with his thrusts. “wrapped my legs around him and he lay over me... I _disappeared_ under him, he was so big, my face crushed against his chest while he fucked me. Neither of us lasted long... thought I was going to _die_ when I finished, I spent so hard... but I was _fine_... you'd be _fine_ taking a Man.”

Dwalin arched back into Nori, giving a half-growled shout as he spent and Nori held on tight as he bucked, grinding out his last few thrusts into the clenching heat of his giant's body as he finally let go and his own climax crashed over him.

They collapsed together onto the bed, Nori clinging tight to Dwalin's broad back, both breathing hard and trembling as they came back down.

Nori eased himself out gently and cleaned them up briefly, getting the worst of the mess, before he curled into Dwalin's arms to be comfortably held. As usual after being fucked Dwalin was boneless and contented, humming slightly as he held Nori, curling his fingers in the end of his braid and occasionally running his hands over Nori's body... happy and affectionate.

“We'll get you a Man next we're in Dale.” He promised, patting Dwalin on the arm soothingly.

His laughter at Dwalin's immediate and predictable offended protest was drowned in Dwalin's mouth as his giant kissed him senseless.


	20. Ornir's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... a time or two I wrote about a Dwarf named Ornir whom Nori knew when he was in the East.  
> Then I wrote this. 
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> VIOLENCE  
> SEX  
> A DUDE WHO IS PRETTY FUCKED UP AND ENTITLED IN THE BRAIN REGION
> 
> (please tell me if this needs more warnings, I've been staring at it for two days and I can't see it anymore)
> 
> Ornir shows up [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/680732/chapters/1333727) and later [here](/chapters/1338419)

_He flinched against the gentle touch to his chin, refusing to look up, the one last act of defiance he had._

“ _When you grow weary of running from yourself, you will come home.” the Elder said softly._

 _They took away his_ name _, they took away his_ voice _, and they cast him out._

 _If he could have spoken, he would have screamed that he would_ never _return, that this had never been and would never_ be _home, that he would never give them the_ satisfaction _of seeing him crawl back._

_He walked away, the blood and ink dripping off his shaved face where they had carved 'kinslayer' into his skin._

“ _You will be alone.” they'd whispered as the blade scraped the beard from his face, “No one in the world will be friend to you.” they'd whispered as the needles pierced him, “You will never know love.” they'd whispered as they ground the ink into his opened skin. “You will be alone. You will be alone. You will wish you had chosen death.”_

_No tears fell from his eyes as he left. He would not give them that._

_He would not give them_ anything _._

 

He left, and he did not look back.

He fought, and he stole, and he ran far enough away that few could read the accusation carved into his skin.

He gave _himself_ a name.

Ornir, eagle, after the massive beautiful deadly hunting birds who soared high above and struck without warning.

They had taken his voice, but he learned other languages to speak.

He found that if he spent enough time on the surface, in the sun, his skin turned dark enough that the marks were hard to see, and his beard grew over them, and he wore bright-gleaming gold in his piercings and in his hair and beard to make them even harder to see.

He grew big, and he was strong, and he got work he was good at, and became well-known for it.

He traveled away, always away.

He did not need them, just as he never _had_ needed them, and he was alone but he did not _need_ to be anything else, and he never _had,_ and he would _never_ return.

Never.

 

He met the thief by chance, in a dark scummy tavern where Ornir was looking for work. The pale western Dwarf had a higher-pitched voice that might easily become grating with his western accent but instead drew Ornir's ear.

He was unusual, drawing Ornir's eye for more than just his pallor and extravagant red-brown hair that was messy and falling out of the points it had been brushed into.

He had five Dwarves around him, all bristling and growling, and he was lounging back, lean and tense, winding a small knife idly between his fingers as he decided who to take for his second round.

His posture, lounging out, leaning back with his legs open

_invitation_

The knife winding through his fingers

_threat_

Smiling

_invitation_

as sly and treacherous as a jackal

_threat_

Sweat gleaming on his throat and chest, where his shirt lay open, bite mark visible

_invitation_

His eyes never still, keeping track of everyone who moved and missing nothing

_threat_

Ornir had not come here to fuck.

He changed his mind.

This western Dwarf would choose _him_ , and he would not go looking for another afterward. Ornir was going to fuck him, fuck him until he screamed, fuck him until he begged for mercy, fuck him until he couldn't _walk_ , and mark him over the marks already on him until he _knew_ he was owned.

He ignored the five Dwarves the western Dwarf had on his string. They did not matter. He ordered himself a glass of grain liquor and sipped it, feeling the hard burn as it made its way down.

Ornir leaned against a nearby wall and stared the Dwarf down, until the Dwarf could feel the weight of his eyes on him and looked back.

The western Dwarf let his eyes wander over Ornir, catching on his hidden knives

_threat_

and his groin.

_invitation_

He smiled wider, sharp flashing teeth, raising one braided eyebrow

_threat_

his legs spreading a little wider as he leaned back a little further, baring more of his sweaty and bite-marked throat.

_invitation_

The little knife disappeared so fast Ornir didn't even see it go

_threat_

and the western Dwarf picked up his mug of mead, tipping it slightly toward Ornir before he took a drink, never breaking eye contact.

_invitation_

The five Dwarves who'd been vying for the western Dwarf's notice turned their attention toward Ornir, trying to glare him away.

Ornir drew himself up to his full height, spreading himself out to his full width. He did not draw any of his knives and carve any of them apart. He did not smile as, one by one, they shuddered and looked away. He took a long burning drink of his liquor and looked back at the western Dwarf.

The western Dwarf the gestured with his eyes for Ornir to come sit with him. Ornir didn't wait for anyone to get out of his way, they just _did_ , they always did. He sat in the suddenly open space beside the western Dwarf.

The Dwarf gave him a name, and Ornir saw the surprise on the faces of the other Dwarves – it was a different name than he'd given them, then, and Ornir wondered how someone could wear a name like water.

He gave the name he had given himself. Ornir, eagle, after the biggest deadliest hunting bird he had ever seen, that always flew alone and killed with deadly precision.

Intimidating the other Dwarves away was easy, and did not require words, words that never came easy in the awkward syllables of Westron.

“We go fuck.” Ornir told him, and this strange Dwarf smiled that smile that was threat and invitation wound tight together, sweat and knives and promises, the addictive scent of sex already on his skin.

“Only if you ask nice.” the Dwarf said lazily, eyes carving into him, “Only if I think you can follow my rules, and only if you can fuck me _hard_ enough to be worth my time.”

“I fuck hard.” Ornir told him, “ _you_ follow rules.”

“You've got rules too?” the Dwarf seemed intrigued.

“You no kiss. You kiss, I cut off lips.” Ornir answered, expecting a tinge of fear and getting a laugh instead.

“If _you_ try to kiss me, I'll _bite_ your lips off.” the western Dwarf answered, leaning closer, eyes bright hazel challenge and his teeth closing with a _snap_.

“You no touch.” Ornir gestured to his body, “You touch, I cut off hands.”

“I'll cut _yours_ off if you touch my hair.” the pale Dwarf answered.

“ _I_ take.” Ornir gave his last rule with finality.

The Dwarf nodded, and his smile was less sharp teeth now, more hungry, “I _like_ that.” he purred, “I'll not give you my mouth... and if you break my skin you'll taste my knives.”

Easy enough. Ornir nodded, standing to go purchase a room.

“You haven't asked nice yet.” the Dwarf reminded, eyes laughing.

Ornir grabbed a handful of shirt and slammed the Dwarf back hard against the wall, leaning in close, “You _like_ we fuck hard?” he growled.

The pale Dwarf half-moaned in his throat, arching against Ornir's fist.

“Yesss...” he groaned.

Ornir dragged him upstairs and fucked him. Slammed himself into that body that was already slick and open, fucked him hard and fast, dug his fingers deep into those lean muscles to see the marks follow, bit into that pale skin almost _almost_ hard enough to break it, threw him and twisted him and pushed and pulled and the rougher he was the harder the Dwarf gasped 'yes'... and he never forgot and tried to touch Ornir.

He was... impossible. The perfect slickness of the salve he carried complimenting the aching tightness of him, flexible and pliable, powerful as he ground Ornir into himself, and he was not _afraid_. He never asked for _less_ , for gentler or slower, and Ornir found and drilled his sweet spot so hard he could hardly breathe and his words turned choked and garbled but _still_ the sounds he made encouraged only _more_.

When the Dwarf spilled himself he screamed, and he clenched so hard on Ornir he had no choice but to follow.

He pulled himself out as soon as he was done, pushing away and half-staggering to the bed to sit and breathe for a moment as he started to clean himself. The Dwarf sat leaning against the wall where they had finished, bright red bite-marks across his chest, shoulders, back – purpling hand-marks across his arms, legs, torso, hips... the far paler bite marks on his thighs and scratches on his back hardly noticeable now under Ornir's marks.

He _laughed_ , and Ornir watched him in shock. No one _laughed_ after being fucked by Ornir – trembling, whimpering, lying on the floor gasping, but not _laughing_.

“Mahal you're _good._..” the way he purred the final word turned it _filthy._ He grinned, loose and relaxed as he stretched, picking himself up off the floor to swagger over to clean himself – he _could not_ be walking after a fuck that brutal but he _was_.

Ornir had never fucked a Dwarf that resilient. He made pleased noises as he inspected himself, wiping himself down, and then dressed himself – shrugging into his clothes all at once the same way Ornir did so that the number and placement of his knives could not be seen.

“Mmm... I'm having a _good_ day.” he said as they walked back downstairs. He threw himself into an empty chair and ordered himself a mug of date mead with a shot of distilled liquor added, raised it in a toast to Ornir.

“I'd do you another time!” he said, and drank, and Ornir took the first job that presented itself, but the strange Dwarf stayed with him in his mind.

The job went perfectly, almost _too_ perfectly, and the pay was good – almost as though the western Dwarf was good luck.

 

When the western Dwarf would not remove himself from Ornir's thoughts, he started asking questions about him.

His reputation was excellent, a skilled thief with light fingers and sometimes impossibly fast with locks. Occasionally arrested but never successfully held. He worked alone by choice, but would join teams on occasion. He did not ever try to take more than his share of a payout. He always did what he was contracted to. He only ever contracted to steal things, open locks, find ways into places there should not be ways into – even though he was known to be very very good with his knives if he had to be.

He ranged the borderlands, the southeastern edge of his range coinciding with the northwestern part of Ornir's.

His reputation as a fuck was also excellent, bedding Dwarves of all kinds so long as they were big and strong and used him hard, though he rarely bedded anyone twice.

Ornir had not realized that the offer the thief had given him as he left was such a rare thing.

 

They met again, the thief scampering lightly over a wall, pausing to give him a look that _burned_ with lust before flinging himself lightly up and over another ahead of shouting guards who were clearly trying to catch him.

The guards did not catch him, and the pale western Dwarf found Ornir in a tavern that night.

“Ornir!” he greeted expansively, his eyes too bright, his smile too sharp, his every motion just a little too quick, practically twitching.

Ornir greeted the thief with the name he'd been given.

They fucked again, ferociously, and the thief did not forget and try to touch Ornir. He was just as impossibly good as the first time.

Ornir sat on the bed when they were done, slowly cleaning himself, while the thief sprawled out relaxed on the other end of the bed and chucked happily to himself, his red-brown hair tattered and his lean pale body gleaming with sweat over Ornir's marks.

“We do again.” Ornir told him as they dressed.

“If I live.” the thief answered with a lazy smile, “I'd fuck you again if I saw you around.”

“You give salve recipe.” Ornir held out his hand. The salve was... it was _worthy_ of the derision the thief had treated Ornir's vial of thick oil to the first time they fucked, laughing that he'd carried oil when he was a _child_. The salve was excellent.

“Only way to get the salve is to fuck me.” the thief laughed.

No one said _no_ to Ornir, but the western thief did, and laughed, and was not afraid of him, and the thief leaned closer, eyes still laughing.

“kiss, kiss.” he said.

A small knife was instantly in Ornir's fingers, he held it in front of the thief's face.

“I cut off lips.” he reminded with a growl. The thief smiled like a jackal, threat and invitation, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the flat of the blade in Ornir's hand. There was a similar small knife in the thief's fingers, which he slowly lifted to Ornir's mouth to tap the flat against his lips, his eyes bright and curious and never leaving Ornir's face... the moment almost _intimate,_ for all it was _knives_.

Then the thief had bounced away with a laugh, his knife disappearing as he swaggered out and was gone. He was not downstairs in the tavern when Ornir made his way down.

Ornir's next job went perfectly, beautifully, easily.

Like the thief's endless good luck had rubbed off on him.

 

They met again, and they fucked again, and Ornir started the game of 'kiss kiss', and they tapped their knives across each other's lips.

“I'll cut your lips off.” the thief whispered, eyes bright, and he was gone.

The third time with a job going perfectly afterward he _knew_ the thief was good luck.

 

So it went.

They met, never more often than twice a year, never longer than a few years between times, and they fucked. The thief _enjoyed_ taking what Ornir wanted to give, and never forgot and tried to touch him. They were comfortable enough together that they could almost banter... and the thief always left good luck behind him.

Some time in those years the thief changed in Ornir's mind from the thief to the Thief, as though he were the only one, the best one.

That strange western Dwarf with the tall hair somehow became the closest thing someone like Ornir could have to a _friend._ Ornir wondered if the Thief had asked about Ornir the way Ornir had asked about him, wondered if he knew what the marks on Ornir's face were for.

Sometimes he liked to imagine that the Thief did know, and simply didn't _care_.

Then the Thief disappeared. He wasn't in the borderlands anymore.

Ornir had to assume he'd died, or moved on, or gone back to the west where he belonged. He was surprised to miss the Thief... or not _really_ the Thief, just the possibility of meeting and fucking him. There were many many other Dwarves in the world to fuck, but none he'd met who enjoyed Ornir the way the Thief did.

He let it go. What was, was, but he could not help wishing he'd fucked the Thief first whenever he had a job go bad.

 

When Ornir heard the Thief was back to his old haunts he searched him out. He _needed_ to fuck the screams out of the Thief and get a little luck on top...

The Thief looked the same as ever, extravagant hair and jackal smile, big dangerous Dwarves all gathering around him hoping to get lucky.

They would not. He was _Ornir's_ luck, and Ornir was bigger and deadlier than any of them.

It was as though he'd never disappeared at all, jumping up to greet Ornir, pretending to want to kiss him and flicking a knife out at the last moment, pulling Ornir down beside him and ordering him a drink.

Ornir let himself soak in the sight of the Thief for a moment, picturing how _good_ it was going to be when he fucked him, before beginning the task of driving away the rest of the Dwarves who wanted the Thief.

He didn't believe it when he saw the marriage bead behind the Thief's ear.

No.

Dwarves like Ornir and the Thief did not _marry_.

He joked that he would kill the Thief's spouse, and the Thief laughed, and Ornir continued his task, certain that he would be fucking the Thief.

He always did, whenever they met.

When the Thief turned him down, Ornir was surprised. He wondered _why_ the Thief might need it to be believed that he was married, what possible good it could do him.

He leaned in close to the thief's ear, “We go fuck. I no tell.” he whispered, cursing, always, the awkwardness of Westron, “I no leave mark to see...”

“No.” the Thief said, and there was a _finality_ to it.

People did not say _no_ to Ornir. Only the Thief.

Ornir had never seen the thief _not_ in the mood to fuck before.

He let him be, and left town the next day.

When he happened upon an excellent job and it went perfectly, he realized he didn't have to _fuck_ the Thief to catch a little of his luck.

He still _wanted_ to though.

 

When he saw the Thief again he was _still_ wearing the bead, and he turned Ornir down again.

They talked, a little, about work they had been doing, might be doing in the future. Ornir offered again to kill the Dwarf the Thief was married to, and the Thief laughed and shook his head.

The Thief's luck held, and Ornir did well once they'd parted ways again.

 

The next time they met the Thief was still wearing that ridiculous bead and Ornir was not in the mood to be turned down. He grabbed the Thief and slammed him against a wall, pinning him there with a fist and looming over him, the way the Thief liked. The Thief flushed red over his pale skin, breathing fast, but he refused to moan and his bright hazel eyes were hard.

“We. Go. Fuck. Now.” Ornir growled.

“No.” The Thief answered coldly.

Ornir snarled down at him, and felt the gentle prickle of a knife against the wrist that held the Thief to the wall.

“Don't make me cut you.” The Thief said quietly.

Ornir could have defeated him, _no one_ was his equal with knives... but he wanted the Thief to _want_ him.

He let the Thief go, and the Thief scrambled up a wall and was away, throwing one last angry glance behind him.

Ornir did not have good luck afterward.

 

The Thief's patterns had changed. He was more cautious, and he took fewer jobs. He was not in the borderlands often, and he was only ever traveling _through_ , and not staying. If Ornir wanted to see him he had to listen for news of him and search him out.

Ornir's old methods of being the biggest, strongest, and scariest in order to attract the Thief were not working – he would have to change tactics.

 

Ornir caught up with the Thief again – the Thief greeted him with less enthusiasm than he normally did, didn't order him a drink. Ornir claimed the space beside him and ordered himself grain liquor, let it burn into his belly while he sat and listened to the Thief.

He took his time glaring away the other Dwarves.

“You give too salve recipe.” Ornir said.

“The only way to get the salve is to fuck me.” the Thief answered automatically.

“Yes, we go.” Ornir agreed, grabbing the Thief's arm and standing.

“No.” The Thief said, easily twisting his arm out of Ornir's grip.

“Cruel.” Ornir said, sitting again, miming his heartbreak to make the Thief laugh.

They drank and ate and talked about work, and Ornir had good luck afterward, and began to wonder what he could do to convince the Thief to fuck him again. There were other Dwarves to fuck, and Ornir enjoyed them, but he _still_ hadn't found anyone as good as the Thief.

 

“We make good team.” Ornir told the Thief the next time he tracked the western Dwarf down. The Thief looked surprised at that. The Thief had a reputation for liking sex after a job, if they worked together Ornir's chances for a fuck would _have_ to go up.

“We don't do the same kind of work.” the Thief said, but he still seemed curious.

“You no kill.” Ornir assured him, “You open doors, I kill, we split money.”

The Thief took a bite of his food and didn't say anything... but he hadn't said _no,_ and he _would_ say no to Ornir if he wanted to... the only person who regularly _did_ , much as Ornir wished he wouldn't.

Ornir leaned closer, pressed close to the Thief's side, and described the job he'd been thinking of. It payed well, getting rid of a well-guarded diplomat who was traveling through. It wasn't a job he would feel comfortable taking on alone, but with his lucky Thief beside him he was sure it would go fine.

“I heard about that job.” the Thief mused, sipping his drink. “I wouldn't take it, if I were you.” he said, “I've got a _bad_ feeling about it.”

Ornir shrugged. If his lucky Thief said it wasn't a good idea, he would let it go, even if the pay was tempting.

 

He was glad he had when he heard that those who _did_ take the job had disappeared without a trace.

He told the Thief about it the next time he tracked him down, buying him food and drink and telling him about skilled assassins disappearing – presumed dead.

“You good luck!” he informed the Thief. He tried to convince him to join him for a different job, but the Thief declined.

The Thief also declined when Ornir offered him a fuck, and wouldn't give him the salve recipe either.

He'd been wearing the bead so long, it had been _so many_ years...

The Thief probably _was_ married.

“ _You will be alone.” they'd whispered, needles carving into his face, marking him an outcast forever,“No one in the world will be friend to you. You will never know love. You will be alone. You will be alone. You will wish you had chosen death.”_

The Thief just shook his head when Ornir once again offered to kill his spouse – Ornir didn't even know what kind of Dwarf the Thief was married to. No one did, when he went asking for the information. There was _no_ information to be had.

...probably because the Thief knew there were people like Ornir who would kill them to have another chance with him.

But Ornir was not ready to give up yet. He had not met or heard of another Dwarf the Thief had fucked as often as he had Ornir – he knew the Thief enjoyed what he had been able to give him.

The Thief enjoyed being fucked _hard_ , and no one fucked as hard as Ornir – he just had to figure out what _else_ someone could offer the Thief, and offer _that –_ show that he could offer more than whoever the Thief was married to.

 

Ornir took his time tracking the Thief down again, just keeping an ear on his comings and goings through the borderlands, watching the patterns of his movements.

The Thief had always drifted, coming and going at random... on the surface it still looked like that.

Underneath that it looked as though he were gathering information. His reputation was still excellent, but it _looked_ like he took work with an eye toward how it would look, which he had never done before – as though he only did _just barely_ enough to keep his reputation perfect. He wandered with a _purpose_ , but what that purpose was Ornir couldn't say – just that he did not seem to be working with any sort of honest Dwarves. People he worked with did not tend to disappear or find their secrets known by the guards, and he was still occasionally arrested but never held – he always escaped.

It looked like he was working for someone.

Ornir wondered how good his luck would be if he worked for the same people as the lucky Thief.

 

“You work for who?” Ornir asked, throwing back the last of his glass of grain liquor and bumping his shoulder against the Thief. “I work too. We make good team.”

“I don't work for _anyone_.” the Thief answered, and Ornir might have argued but he saw something in the Thief's hazel eyes warning him away – like a silent plea of 'don't make me kill you', and Ornir knew the Thief was good with knives... and he didn't want to fight him.

He let it go. Whoever they were, they didn't want someone like Ornir... just as the Thief didn't anymore.

“ _You will be alone. You will be alone” they'd whispered as they marked him forever, and he could never run away far enough to escape from the ink in his skin._

The Thief wouldn't fuck. The Thief wouldn't join him for a job.

But he _was_ still lucky for Ornir.

 

The Thief was scarce in the borderlands for a time after that, _more_ scarce than he had become.

Ornir finally tracked him down again – the Thief was still lean and quick but the wrinkles around his eyes were deeper and there were a few silver hairs mixed in with his red-brown – Ornir had some silver of his own in his black hair.

Ornir claimed the space beside the Thief and intimidated away the rest of the Dwarves mainly out of habit.

Ornir picked up the Thief's hand as they ate and drank and talked about work. The Thief watched him curiously as he inspected his hand, admiring the fine but strong design of it.

Ornir had never allowed the Thief to touch him... maybe that was why he wouldn't fuck anymore – Ornir had heard the Thief's clever hands praised for their skill more than once.

He drew the hand toward himself, pressed it to the center of his chest. The Thief watched him, unmoving, jackal smile gone from his face. Ornir paused for a long moment, feeling the touch of that hand against his heart, pressing it firmly so the trembling in his own hands was hidden.

“You like we fuck?” he asked, very quietly.

The Thief slid his hand out from under Ornir's, returned it to himself. “No, Ornir.” he answered gently.

It was the name he'd given to himself. Ornir, eagle, after the biggest deadliest hunting birds who killed without warning and were always seen alone, and it was not the name he wanted to hear from the Thief, but it was the only name he _had_. He knew a dozen different names the Thief had gone by, and he knew he could never hope to learn his true name.

 _They took his name and they took his voice, leaving him to stumble nameless in languages that fought his tongue. They marked him and cast him out, “You will never know love.” they whispered, and how_ could _he, when he had no true name to give?_

He left.

 

Ornir thought long before he tracked his lucky Thief down again. He found him in a dark and quiet alleyway.

He greeted him with the name the Thief had given him the first time they met, and the Thief smiled his familiar jackal smile and smacked Ornir on the shoulder as Ornir smacked him back, shoving him playfully against the wall and seeing the unmistakeable positive reaction he tried to hide, but not trying to trap him there.

“Kiss, kiss.” Ornir said, leaning down close, and the Thief flicked his knife out, tapping it against Ornir's lips in the familiar old game.

Ornir didn't play it, didn't draw his own knife. He didn't break eye contact as the pale western Dwarf froze in surprise.

“No rules.” Ornir said, “What you like, what you want, I give.” he cursed the clumsiness of the Westron tongue as he tried to make the Thief understand, “I give to _you_. I give anything... _everything_.”

The Thief looked up at him with a face gone bloodless and pale, “No.” he said, shaking his head as he ducked away, taking two steps backward quickly away from Ornir.

Complete rejection.

“ _You will be alone.” they whispered, and they took away everything he was, marking his face with the most horrible thing he had ever done._

“Why?” He asked, growling it out through his teeth. He had been _so patient_ , for _so long_. He had offered all he had, and all he was – broken though he was, and it was not _enough_ , and it was _not fair_.

His best knives were in his hands as he stepped forward. He could _make_ him... If he could not have him then _no one_ should...

The Thief took another half a step backward, knives in his hands, high-quality killing blades. His grip on them was familiar and sure as he rested light on his toes, a feral light in his eyes and his smile twisted into something far _far_ past the unpredictable treachery of a jackal.

There was a horrible inevitability about it – that it should end where it started, with knives and anger against someone he didn't want to hurt.

“ _You will be alone.” they whispered as the blade scraped the beard from his face, “No one in the world will be friend to you.” they whispered as the needles pierced him, “You will never know love.” they whispered as they ground the ink into his opened skin. “You will be alone. You will be alone. You will wish you had chosen death.”_

 _They left him kneeling in the dirt, shaking with the effort of holding in the tears he_ would not _give them the satisfaction of seeing._

_He flinched from the gentle touch on his chin, but he looked up into his father's craggy face, saw the tears running freely down into his gray beard._

“ _When you grow weary of running from yourself, you will come home.” he said softly through trembling lips, covering his face with his hands to sob as the Dwarf who would never be his son again stumbled out into the world with nothing but his anger... and he ran and ran but he could not outrun himself and he was right where he began, anger and knives, and alone._

_Always alone._

Ornir felt horribly, horribly tired as he put his knives away, feeling his entire body slump.

“I go home now.” he said quietly, and he did not look back as he walked away.

He had a long road ahead of him.

 

“Fuck.” Nori said simply as he slid in through Dwalin's window and sat on the floor. He had a bottle in his hand, prying the cork out with his teeth and spitting it across the room before drinking right from the bottle – pure grain liquor, and _strong_ , by the smell of it. Not at _all_ what Nori usually drank, and he _never_ got himself really drunk while they were working.

“Fuck.” Nori said again, cringing away from the strength of what he'd drunk before going for another swig.

“Nori?” Dwalin asked, but Nori shook his head and took another drink.

“Fuck.” Nori said, dropping his head back to thud against the wall, padded by his hair but still hard.

Dwalin sat down beside him, reaching for him, but Nori flinched away with his whole body and Dwalin scooted himself away from him, heart aching. It had been a long while since the last time Nori reacted to him that way.

They sat together in silence on the floor while Nori methodically drank his grain liquor and occasionally said 'Fuck'.

Dwalin carefully eased the bottle out of Nori's hand when he began to sway despite the wall he was leaning against – hoping Nori hadn't drunk enough to poison himself. They _needed_ him, and Dwalin didn't know what had happened to make his thief want to drink himself into oblivion.

“If it wasn't you...” Nori said, blinking blearily at Dwalin and clearly using all his effort to make the words turn out right. “it might... maybe _him_.”

“Who?” Dwalin asked as Nori sloshed into him, leaning loose and heavy against his shoulder, nuzzling with his nose into Dwalin's furs and breathing deeply with a happy 'mmmm'.

“Ornir.” Nori said, and Dwalin forced himself not to freeze, finishing putting his arm around Nori's shoulders and drawing him in close.

Dwalin hated him, the Dwarf who moved as deadly as a snake and _expected_ everyone to get out of his way, who _expected_ to have everyone say yes to whatever he wanted just because he was scary, who tracked Nori down almost every time they traveled through the borderlands.

Nori was afraid of him, not for himself but for Dwalin.

They'd fought about the southern Dwarf more than once, when Nori would tell Dwalin he had to leave a town immediately and Dwalin would catch sight of Ornir stalking the streets. Dwalin was not proud of having accused Nori of getting him out of the way to fuck the other Dwarf.

“He'll kill you, Dwalin.” Nori had hissed, keeping himself calm despite his anger at the accusation, “If anyone ever knows you're with me, he'll find out and kill you. He's smart, and if he ever figures it out, he'll _kill you_. I could kill you, and he's better than I am.”

And it was true that Nori could kill Dwalin if he wanted to... he'd taught Dwalin as much as he could, and Dwalin was a lot harder to sneak up on than he'd once been but Nori was too light and stealthy and could _still_ almost always sneak up on him.

Dwalin trusted Nori's assessment of his own and Ornir's skills. If Nori said that Ornir could kill Dwalin, then he had to trust it... but he _hated_ Ornir.

“He's gone.” Nori said, gesturing widely, then patted Dwalin awkwardly. “don't worry _any_ more.”

“He's gone?” Dwalin couldn't help the relief he felt at that, and Nori nodded.

“Gone home.” Nori said, voice heavy and sad. “...never come back.”

Dwalin gently stroked his drunk thief's back and resisted saying anything that could make Nori more sad, because he could only see Ornir's leaving as a good thing.

Nori reached for the bottle, but Dwalin held it easily out of his reach and he gave up quickly.

“If it wasn't you, it might have been him.” Nori said, and then laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Can you just... see it?” he asked, and Dwalin bit down his jealousy and did not say _anything_.

“We would have been...” He gestured widely, “ _Unstoppable_. Take... _anything_ we wanted.” He chuckled at that thought a little before sobering. “...until we killed each other... we _would_ have.”

He looked up at Dwalin with his eyes hazel eyes too bright, his face flushed with the alcohol, “I'm... glad it was _you._ ” he said.

“So am I.” Dwalin said, kissing the forehead of his wonderful, clever, _frustrating_ thief, and knew how lucky he was to be the one who had caught Nori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...still not sure why my Nori has to waft through Middle Earth breaking all the hearts...
> 
> I was thinking of the [ Martial Eagle](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martial_Eagle) for the bird Ornir named himself for.


	21. More Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin is not very good at dirty talk.  
> Nori is _very_ good at it. 
> 
> SMUT  
> Role-Playing  
> Mild Bondage
> 
> The kid, for any who are unfamiliar, has appeared in the [Expanded Adventures](http://archiveofourown.org/works/680732/chapters/1342029) drabble series.  
> For anyone interested, he looks something like [this](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/omar%20borkan%20al%20gala) except he has long hair and a bullwhip braid on his chin.

Nori was sometimes in the mood to tease and pleasure Dwalin slowly, the way Dwalin liked to do him sometimes.

The problem was, after he reached a certain level of arousal Dwalin would tackle Nori and fuck him until he couldn't breathe.

Nori was never going to complain about _that_ , but it was not always what he was going for.

The solution was to tie Dwalin's hands to the headboard.

It couldn't hold him if he really wanted to escape. Nori was sure the bed frame would break if Dwalin tried, and Nori always made sure Dwalin could (just barely) reach the end of the rope that he needed to pull to untie the knots. It couldn't hold Dwalin if he really wanted to escape, but it did slow things down.

It was a game. It was only a matter of time before one of them cracked and untied Dwalin. Nori ran one hand gently down Dwalin's generous erection, clear down to his stones, tumbling them over his fingers, then back up to circle his thumb around the crown before starting over again... slow and smooth and never quite enough to let Dwalin reach his release. With his second hand Nori tugged lightly at Dwalin's thick white chest hair, here and there. He teased Dwalin's unpierced nipple lightly with his tongue and breath.

Dwalin growled, pushing up into Nori's hand with his hips, searching for more. He was breathing hard from Nori's long slow teasing, and starting to eye the end of the rope, wondering if it would be worth the struggle to reach it.

He wasn't begging. Not _yet._

His heavy-browed blue eyes burned as they watched Nori.

Nori sat up as he ran his thumb around and around the crown of Dwalin's erection, gathering up the slickness there, tugging just a _little_ harder on Dwalin's chest hair. His giant moaned into it, muscles straining, needing just a _little_ more, just a _little..._

Nori let go, smiling at Dwalin's inarticulate growl-shout of disappointment. He made eye contact as he slowly lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked Dwalin's musky slickness off it.

Dwalin's desperate whine was intensely gratifying.

“...want to fuck you.” He groaned, pulling at his ropes in a way he was very aware showed his muscles off, eying the end of the rope but not trying to reach for it yet, eyes begging Nori. Nori squeezed the beautiful muscles in Dwalins' arms, kissed his forehead, and began to brush his long gray hair down his giant's body.

“Let me fuck you?” Dwalin had finally reached the point of begging, arching his body into the teasing touch of Nori's hair. “I want to be inside you... you like that! I still... I still can't _believe_ you can take all of me.”

Nori gave Dwalin the shark smile, and his giant cursed sharply. Dwalin had reached the end of his ability to dirty talk and he _knew_ he was in trouble now.

“ _Anyone_ could take you.” Nori said, twisting his hair into a rope and coiling it around Dwalin's erection to stroke it gently gently with the silky strands.

“Even the _kid_ could take you.” Nori purred, an idea striking him, and the way Dwalin tensed told him he'd hit something.

“You'd like that wouldn't you?” Nori grinned, “He's a pretty little thing, just your type with those big eyes and all that dark hair... I've seen you looking... You'd _love_ to be inside him, to have him squirming under you.”

“Nori...” Dwalin groaned, eyes desperate.

Nori slicked a hand with salve quickly, clenching it into a fist and pressing it against Dwalin's fingertips.

“You have to loosen him up first.” He said, “Or you'll tear him apart.” It took Dwalin half a beat to realize, but then he pressed his index finger slowly into Nori's fist. Nori clenched down on it and Dwalin moaned.

“He's so _tight_.” Nori purred, moving his fist slowly up and down on Dwalin's finger, “And he's moaning...” He adjusted his voice slightly higher and mimicked the kid's accent.

“Ooooh... Dwalin, Dwalin!... yessssss....”

“Fuck... Nori!” Dwalin struggled slightly against his ropes, but he'd curled his finger, instinctively searching for the sweet spot in Nori's fist.

“Oh, that's very rude.” Nori purred, “saying my name when you've got that big fat finger buried inside him... you might hurt his feelings. You don't want to be a bad lover to him!” Nori pressed the first two fingers of his other hand against Dwalin's lips. “Suck him while you finger him.” he suggested.

Dwalin groaned, opening his mouth and sucking expertly on Nori's fingers, running his tongue along them and pulling them in as deeply as he could.

Oh he was always _so good_... Nori moaned, remembering to keep his voice slightly high.

“What am I doing while you're pleasuring the kid?” Nori asked. “Am I... am I just laying there watching my Dwarf pleasure another? Am I cradling him, holding him open for you?” Nori spread his own legs and Dwalin moaned around Nori's fingers. “Or maybe I'm sucking _you_ while you're sucking _him_.” Nori looked toward Dwalin's erection, wondering if he _could_ while keeping his hands occupied with Dwalin's hand and mouth.

Dwalin pulled on his ropes, dragging himself up the bed so he was half-sitting – making the distance much smaller.

Nori grinned as he repositioned himself to take his giant's erection in his mouth, Dwalin moaning around his fingers. It was not the easiest thing, keeping both hands and his mouth coordinated, but he tried... releasing Dwalin's erection now and then to moan and talk in as close as he could get to the kid's voice.

“I think he's ready for another finger...” Nori suggested, keeping his fist tight on Dwalin's fingers as his giant eased a second finger inside. Nori moaned a high whine, adding a few choice curses in the common language of the East.

Dwalin did not wait long before adding a third finger, sucking vigorously on Nori's fingers as he cursed and moaned.

“I think he's ready.” Nori said, drawing his fingers out of Dwalin's mouth, “You don't want to make him finish before you fuck him. You want to be inside him, to watch his tiny body stretch to take you all inside...”

Dwalin moaned in answer. He wasn't even eying the rope anymore, completely caught up in the story Nori was weaving.

Nori grabbed up a scoop of salve, eagerly coating Dwalin's erection and straddling his giant without preparing himself at all. Dwalin's eyes widened as he realized what was going to happen.

“You'll have to go slow.” Nori said, “You'll have to go _so slow_ and _so gentle_ so you don't hurt him because he's little... such a tiny, beautiful, Dwarf...” He pressed the head of Dwalin's erection against his entrance, pushing back slowly, slowly, drawing back as he began to yield.

He probably went slower than he needed to. Dwalin's bound hands had clenched into fists as he growled and moaned and _held still_ as Nori worked him inside, trying to remember to keep his voice a little high and his accent Eastern. He finally seated himself fully, breathing hard, stretched and achingly full.

He fucked himself slowly on Dwalin's erection, not enough to let Dwalin finish even though he was already so worked up, so close. Dwalin tugged on his ropes and his eyes turned toward the end of the rope again.

“c'mon...” he growled, thrusting up hard into Nori, wanting more.

Nori made a pained whimpering sound and Dwalin froze, concerned.

“Gentle!” Nori admonished, “He's not like _me_.” even though all he wanted was to get fucked by Dwalin as hard as he could.

Soon.

Soon.

He could take it just a _little_ further...

“What am I doing while you're fucking the kid?” Nori asked. “Am I kissing you?” He leaned forward and captured Dwalin's mouth with his own, kissed him hard and deep, feeling the frustrated depths of Dwalin's passion. He drew back.

“But that would mean you can't _see_ yourself fucking the kid.” He said, “Maybe I'm behind the kid, touching him while you watch...” He moaned as he ran his hands over his body, still fucking himself on Dwalin slowly, slowly...

“I bet he's sensitive...” Nori said, moaning high as he circled his fingertips over his nipples, pinching them slightly. He'd never been sensitive there, but Dwalin moaned in appreciation of the sight.

“Maybe I'll bite him on the neck.” Nori suggested, “Marking him while you fuck him.” He turned his head to the side and swore, keeping his voice high, arching as though he'd been bitten. He slid one hand downward to stroke his erection. Dwalin's eyes burned as he watched, moaning helplessly as he fought the need to go harder so he could _finally_ finish.

“He can't take much more... he's going to...” Nori said, fighting the same need as Dwalin, he clenched down on Dwalin's erection as tightly as he could, picking up his pace slightly as he swore and then collapsed against Dwalin's chest to lay still.

“He'll get sore if he has any more...” Nori said against Dwalin's chest while Dwalin began to struggle to reach the end of his rope. He levered himself off Dwalin's erection.

“I'll lay him to the side, wrap him in a blanket and kiss him and tell him he's wonderful...” He looked down at Dwalin's straining erection, “Oh, but _you_ didn't get to finish yet!” He said, as though he were surprised. He grinned down on his frustrated giant, Dwalin breathing hard and fast, flushed bright red. He gave a quick tug to the end of the rope, setting Dwalin's hands free.

“You'll have to finish with _me._ ” he purred.

Dwalin exploded, throwing Nori face-down across the bed with a wordless roar, pouncing on top of him and slamming himself back into Nori.

Nori screamed against the brutal pleasure, stroking himself fast and hard, Dwalin's teeth in his shoulder and Dwalin's hands in his hair, pulling hard, delicious sharpness to compliment the pounding he was taking... the pleasure building fast, cresting and crashing over him at nearly the same time as Dwalin reached his.

His giant collapsed across him, heavy and sweaty and _wonderful_ , both of them panting as they came slowly back down.

“...you don't... play fair...” Dwalin groaned, kissing gently at Nori's neck.

Nori laughed, “Fair's no fun.” He wiggled a little to get more comfortable and relaxed beneath his giant, feeling Dwalin slowly deflate inside him.

“mmm...” Dwalin agreed, rubbing his face in Nori's hair. “...love you.”

“Love you too.”

“...don't _really_ want to fuck the kid...”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... this one time I thought I could maybe write a kid/Nori/Dwalin threesome but then my brain refused because relationship dynamics - but the scenario was still kicking around in the back of my head and eventually morphed into this.   
> I hope you enjoyed.


	22. Lady Hyrja

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori and Dwalin work for King Dain, protecting envoys and members of the royal family on journeys. Sometimes things go wrong.  
> This is one of those times.  
> WARNING FOR: VIOLENCE, GORE, DEATH, MENTIONS OF RAPE
> 
> Also, canonically, King Dain Ironfoot has a son, Thorin Stonehelm, who is two years younger than Kili.

_this was stupid  
this is your own fault  
you got stupid because you got angry  
_ Nori neatly slipped his knives through the ribs of the last standing Man, sliding out of the way of the falling body, running his eyes over them all to make sure they were all _completely_ dead before he dropped his weapons and grabbed his thigh, pressing it tight to try to stem the slow-glugging blood loss.  
 _so stupid  
_ He'd been lying in the rafters for hours, listening to them plan and laugh... with the blood pounding hotter and hotter in his ears as he listened to them, seething as they laughed about shaving her beard off and argued about who would take the first turn on her. He'd hardly waited for them all to fall asleep before he started killing them. He hadn't waited long enough, one of them was still too awake, and he'd roused the last one, and Nori had gotten hurt.  
 _sloppy, amateurish  
_ … _fuck  
you don't even know which of the healers in this town can be trusted to stay quiet  
stupid mistake  
try to make sure it's not your last  
step one: wrap it up to slow the bleeding  
_ He ripped a long strip from one of the cutthroats' blankets, wrapping it tight around his leg, hissing at the pain. He ripped a second and third strip and wrapped them around the first. The last thing he needed was to leave a blood trail.  
 _step two: ...fuck...  
step two, step two: Mahal damn it, there's not a better step two  
get to Dwalin before you pass out from blood loss  
you can deal with the fallout from revealing yourself later  
stupid  
_ Nori cleaned his knives and put them back up his sleeves where they belonged. He picked up the leader of the group's knife, with its sheath, and tucked it in the front of his jacket. He made his way out of the rented house they had taken as their base, locking the door behind him, gritted his teeth against the pain as he climbed up the side of a building and onto the roof, making his careful way to the inn.  
He sat on the roof for a moment... trying to figure out the least painful way to get to Dwalin's window... but he couldn't stop too long, his head was spinning and he could feel a deep exhaustion starting in the back of his shoulders. The bandage was starting to feel a little soggy against his skin.  
 _you don't have long  
get to Dwalin  
just get to Dwalin, that's all you have to do  
_ Nori decided that the most straightforward method would be the least painful by dint of being the quickest. He swung himself over the edge of the roof and crawled his way to the window, flicking a thin knife through the catch and prying it open.  
He felt the rough bandage pop as he swung himself into the room, felt a hot rush of blood flood down his leg.  
“Dwalin...” He was not proud of how close to a whimper his voice was as he dropped to the floor, hands on his leg, pressing tight to the stab wound.  
“She's safe, she's safe, I got them all.” he was babbling as Dwalin's big arms were around him, pressing his face into the giant's broad chest and the warm animal scent of _safe,_ realizing as he said it that Dwalin didn't even know that the Lady had been in such danger.  
Dwalin touched his leg, cursing as he felt the blood, and Nori was swept up in big strong arms and _carried,_ like a child, into the adjoining room.  
 _safe  
you're safe  
Dwalin has you  
Dwalin will take care of it  
_ Things got... foggy... after that. There was Dwalin's growl, echoing in his chest against Nori's cheek, and Dwalin definitely punched someone, possibly more than _one_ someone, and then there was pressure around his leg, which was good because it meant the bleeding would stop. Dwalin's voice was asking him what had happened, and since it was Dwalin he told him where, and how many.  
Someone was trying to take his knives from his legs and he fought back, but then there was Dwalin's voice and Dwalin's hands and he knew that his knives were safe with Dwalin and he stopped fighting.  
There were hands on his leg, prodding at the wound, and he saw that it was the Lady Hyrja herself, her amber hair braided back tight and her hands bloodied to the elbow, and he knew that this was not the way he was supposed to be introduced to her, not after all this time protecting her, and he remembered to keep his cursing silent because Dwalin was telling him to be quiet and a little voice in his head that sounded like Dori reminded him that one does _not_ call the future Queen names like that, and besides he _liked_ her, and then mercifully things fogged out again for a little while.  
There was bright searing pain in his leg, and the scent of burning flesh, and he was pinned down and screaming but Dwalin's voice was whispering 'shh' in his ear again and he remembered to keep silent, and afterward Dwalin's hands were petting him, and Dwalin almost looked like he wanted to cry.  
“Brave thief.” he said, “my brave thief...”  
“Stupid thief.” Nori corrected, and wrapping his hand in Dwalin's tunic to keep him close as things faded away again.

 Lady Hyrja had never seen someone scream like that. She had seen the injured scream until their voices gave out and they continued on silently, but she'd never seen someone who's voice _worked_ control themselves that way.  
Dwalin had slammed into her room in the middle of the night with a heavily bleeding Dwarf in his arms, and one look at the fierce desperation on his face was enough. She set to saving the ragged Dwarf without asking a question, her personal guard who questioned why they were bothering met with Dwalin's fist.  
 _he should have realized at first glance that this was Dwalin's One  
_ The Dwarf, whom Dwalin was calling 'thief', was half-unconscious already, but he clung to Dwalin as though the big guard were the only thing in the world. He didn't respond to anything around him, except for Dwalin. When Dwalin asked him what happened, despite his state the graying Dwarf gave a concise summary who's brevity spoke of training. He knew which information was important, and stuck to that.  
He had also just killed half a dozen cutthroats for her, and suddenly the idea of traveling to Erebor in secret with minimal guards for her wedding to Thorin Stonehelm seemed perilously dangerous. There were too many powerful families who thought a mere healer and warrior of a minor house was not good enough for the future King of Erebor. Someone had found out, and now there were killers after her.  
“We have to keep him secret.” Dwalin had said, cradling the thief to his chest, when she was done binding the wound on his leg, praying that it would be enough to stop the bleeding “No one can know that he's here, that he's with us...”  
Lady Hyrja had never worked in an inn before, in battlefields and tents and fine houses, but not in an inn full of humans, trying to remain unnoticed. She didn't have the supplies to put the small Dwarf under, and if he made any noise the entire inn would know. She asked if they would be able to gag him.  
Dwalin had pressed a kiss to the mostly-unconscious Dwarf's forehead. “He won't make a sound.” The big guard had promised, and he was right.  
Lady Hyrja had never seen anyone scream like that. Dwalin and her two guards held him still and Dwalin whispered to him that he had to be quiet, and the Dwarf screamed through the pain of having his leg cauterized in silence.  
There had been tears in Dwalin's eyes as he soothed the trembling Dwarf afterward. They didn't have any poppy milk with them, and it would be too dangerous to give him willowbark, in case the wound broke open and he started bleeding started again. The Dwarf would have to bear the pain on his own.  
Finally, when the Dwarf drifted out of consciousness again, clinging to Dwalin like a lifeline, they had a whispered conference. Dwalin and Lady Hyrja and her two personal guards.  
 _we are such a tiny force  
would I had chosen a different plan for my journey, but at the time this one seemed the sanest and safest choice...  
_ The guard who had questioned why they were helping the thief suggested they leave him behind and earned himself another punch from Dwalin that left him stunned and reeling on the floor. Dwalin explained that he worked _with_ the thief, or _not at all_ , eyes burning. Lady Hyrja agreed with him, strange and ragged though he might look, the graying Dwarf had just killed six cutthroats and taken a hefty wound for her. She was not so ungrateful that she would abandon him, even if staying put for a few days meant that she was in more danger.  
They poured over their maps, choosing a new route, planning on traveling much faster than they originally had.  
They moved the beds so they were all in one room and set a watch through the remainder of the night.

 Lady Hyrja woke to the thief quietly complaining that he was _not_ an invalid as Dwalin tended to him. He quieted when he saw her. He reached into the front of his jacket and pulled a sheathed knife out, offering it to her handle-first. Dwalin gave her a little nod, and she took it.  
“They sharpened it for you. It's yours now, my Lady.” he said, hazel-eyed gaze steady despite his obvious exhaustion. He put his hand on his heart and nodded as he made a downward gesture, the closest he could get to a bow without moving.  
“Nori, son of Kori, at your service.” he said.  
“Hyrja daughter of Hyla at yours.” she answered, inspecting the knife. It was thin and deadly-sharp. She shivered slightly.  
 _without this Dwarf I didn't even know, I might be dead right now  
this knife would have killed me  
_ Nori turned to Dwalin, “You _have_ to go. I'll catch up, it shouldn't take me more than a few days.”  
“No.” Dwalin said.  
“Not with that wound.” Lady Hyla agreed.  
Nori had tried to push Dwalin's hands away, as if to stand to prove his point, but the big guardsman had growled, low and dangerous in his throat, and the thief had relented with a miserable huff.  
Two days later the the thief had managed to talk them into leaving town, but Dwalin had managed to talk Nori into traveling with them.  
They slipped out of the inn in the middle of the night, and the slight thief rode double on the back of Lady Hyrja's pony, since she was the second lightest, and was also the healer and could keep an eye on him.  
A few days out of the next town they woke to find that he and a moderate amount of their supplies were gone.  
Dwalin did not seem surprised.  
They did not see him in the next town, though she kept an eye out for him.  
He caught up to them a few days out of that town, picketing a pony beside theirs one evening and limping heavily over to sit beside Dwalin by the fire as though he were expected.  
Lady Hyrja insisted on checking his wound, which was healing better than might be expected, despite the stresses he really _shouldn't_ be putting on it. It was going to leave an awful scar.  
“We'd better not tell Stone-head that you take my pants off every time we meet.” Nori had joked, earning himself a warning growl from Dwalin, but Lady Hyrja had laughed. Very few would joke with her like that, now that she was to be royalty.  
 _he took the wound for me, he's earned himself a little familiarity  
_ “Well...” she grinned back at the thief, “The first time I met Thorin Stonehelm I stripped him naked... but he was not as polite with his pain-swearing as you are.”  
Nori had smiled and given her that little not-bow, hand to heart and downward.  
“He likes you.” Dwalin had commented, later, when Nori was not in earshot. Something in his expression told her that this was a rare and pleasing thing.  
Nori only stayed with them for a few days before he disappeared again.  
Between the next two towns, he passed them on the road, pausing only long enough to kiss Dwalin and almost-bow to her before continuing on, wordless.  
Between the next two towns he caught up to them at a gallop on an unfamiliar horse, towing a second one behind him, his hair wild and his eyes wilder.  
“They're right behind me.” he'd gasped, jumping down, favoring his injured leg but moving quickly, gesturing wildly, “Trade trade trade!”  
Dwalin had understood immediately, plucking lady Hyrja off her pony, boosting her onto one of the horses, grabbing only the pack he'd had her make of her most important belongings, and his own, before climbing up behind her. Her guards had realized what was happening and had taken the second horse with their emergency packs, Nori had tied the ponies into a line and swung onto the lead one, urging them along. He and Dwalin exchanged a few brief signs in an ingleshmek lady Hyrja was unfamiliar with, before Dwalin had smacked the horse and they'd galloped away, leaving Nori behind.  
“Will he be safe?” she'd asked, trying to find a comfortable and stable position on the oversized horse.  
“They'll never see him.” Dwalin had grinned, pride in his voice, “Not _my_ thief.”  
They had apparently, in the few signs they'd exchanged, changed routes again. Dwalin led them down a different road than the one they'd planned.  
Two days of hard riding later, they'd abandoned the horses that Dwalin assured her Nori had certainly stolen, smacking them to get them to run off home, and set off cross-country.  
When they reached the outskirts of a town, a few weeks later, Nori was waiting for them with new ponies and supplies.  
“Paid for.” he'd assured Dwalin, but the big guard had just huffed.  
“With who's gold?” he'd asked, and the thief had only smiled, shaking his head. He'd handed Lady Hyrja another knife, and then helped them all disguise themselves. Dwalin was not pleased with the hat and gloves he was asked to wear to cover his tattoos, but Lady Hyrja quite liked her new darker hair color.  
Their trip settled into a routine after that, Nori would sometimes spend a night or two with them on the road, but mostly they did not see him. The graying thief always looked exhausted, curling up against Dwalin and falling to sleep, sometimes while still sitting upright.  
Dwalin would put an arm around him, a tender worried look in the big guard's eyes.  
“We shouldn't be making the trip like this.” Dwalin growled, running his fingers lightly over the sleeping thief's cheek as they sat by the fire, “He shouldn't be doing this all on his own.”  
“I wish I had taken King Dain's offer of an army to surround me.” Lady Hyrja sighed.  
“Far easier to slip a knife into your back in the middle of an army.” Nori was apparently not as asleep as he'd seemed.  
Dwalin shushed him and carried him to his bedroll, despite the thief's feeble kicking and protests that he could _walk_ , thank you very much.  
 _I hope that my Thorin and I are still so much in love when we are that age_  
 _if I even survive to make it to my wedding_  
 _but between Dwalin and his thief, I might... I might..._

 They would not be distracted, they would not be misdirected, they set too good a guard to sneak up on, and there were too many of them to take on alone... not even if he wasn't still healing.  
 _fuck fuck fuck  
there is only one thing to do  
_ They were only a few days out from Erebor, but Nori wasn't sure if Lady Hyrja was going to make it there, not with the small army of Men on his tail.  
Never, in all his years helping Dwalin guard people for King Dain, had he seen such a vicious and persistent attempt at killing someone as those who were trying to kill Lady Hyrja.  
Luckily, he'd stolen a very fast horse. He suspected it of having Rohan ancestry.  
He explained in as few words as possible when he finally reached the group, pulling Lady Hyrja up behind him on the horse and galloping away without even time to share a goodbye kiss with Dwalin.  
 _he knows you love him, he knows  
just get Lady Hyrja to the guardpost, send the guards back to help Dwalin, and send a raven to King Dain and Stone-head  
you can barricade yourselves in the guardpost, you could weather out a siege in that thing  
_ His plan worked until they got into the guardpost, Lady Hyrja close behind him, and he'd just started to relax when he noticed the way the two guards were moving, their eyes on the Lady as they spread out, coming toward him from different directions with knives in their hands.  
They expected to catch him by surprise. They expected him to be a normal guard.  
They were wrong.  
 _step one: push the Lady back out of the way  
step two: knives in hands  
step three: dance right, knife through the eyeball of the right assassin  
it's stuck, drop it, new knife in hand  
step four: glide back left, block, block, and knives through the ribs of the left assassin  
step five: slide out of the way of the blood spray  
step six: check that there are no more assassins  
good  
...oh fuck  
step seven: assure Lady Hyrja that you have not just killed a bunch of loyal guards  
_ She wasn't running away or drawing a sword on him, not yet, but Lady Hyrja was not looking very confident in his loyalty.  
“Did they kill the ravens?” Nori asked, wiping his knives on the ill-fitting guard uniforms, clearly stolen. He flicked his knives back up his sleeves, leaving for now the one stuck in the one's head. He gestured Lady Hyrja ahead of him.  
“Find the ravens, and keep on your watch!” he ordered, and she gave him a distrustful look, but she hurried further into the guardpost to look, sword in hand.  
He pried his knife out of the assassin's eye and dragged the bodies outside, briefly searching the elder one for a suitable knife to gift to Lady Hyrja.  
He was closing the door and barring it behind him when she called for him.  
She had found the bodies of the two original guards and stumbled past him, tears in her eyes and hand over her mouth.  
They were nasty, _nasty_ pieces of work who had been sent after her. He did what he could to make the bodies decent, wrapping them with the blankets from his bedroll.  
There were two ravens with wrung necks in the room too... and one young one huddled in the corner, crying weakly. He coaxed it to him, and carried it out of the ghastly room, which he locked behind him.  
The raven wasn't in any shape to fly, half-starved and dehydrated, though its wings were mercifully unbroken. He gave it to Lady Hyrja to care for, giving her something else to think of than what she'd found, and Nori paced.  
 _The horse is fast, you might make it to Erebor  
or you might run into more assassins, or another band of hired swords like what Dwalin's fighting  
oh Dwalin!  
he expects help to be on the way  
you should go back and help him  
you shouldn't have left him to fight alone  
but if you'd sent the Lady here alone, she'd have met the same fate as the guards  
you can't leave the Lady here alone, and you can't expose her to the danger of fighting...  
you can't go to Erebor  
you can't go back to help Dwalin  
you can't just stay here and do nothing!  
...except you _ can _stay here...  
you can stay here  
you could weather out a siege in here  
you could wait here until the raven is up to taking a message  
it's the plan that keeps the Lady safe, the plan with the least risk to her, and that's what you're supposed to be doing, protecting her  
even if all you want to do is go to Dwalin  
_ “Nori...” her worried voice broke through his thoughts and he looked up, seeing the fear on her face, realized he'd been flicking various knives out of his sleeves as he paced.  
Not a good way to gain her trust.  
He slumped against the wall.  
“We have to stay here.” he said. “We have to stay here, and barricade ourselves in, and wait for the raven to be able to take a message... and _wait_.”

 Lady Hyrja watched it kill the thief to choose the option that kept her the most safe.  
 _this is what it is to be a princess, or a queen  
to have to watch others put you over themselves even if it kills them  
_ They divided up the work, Nori giving the poor guards and ravens as good a burial as he could, and burning the bodies of the assassins. She tended to the surviving raven and marshaled their supplies, and they saw to barricading themselves in to the guardhouse together.  
The horse did not seem inclined to leave, wandering around outside, eating grass.  
They shared a bedroll, since Nori had used his as burial shrouds... another thing he joked they would have to keep from Thorin.  
 _if I make it to him..._  
Two days later, Dwalin and her personal guards showed up. They were battered and exhausted, but were smiling the grim smiles of the victorious.  
Lady Hyrja helped the graying thief unbarricade the door, and watched him fling himself on the big guardsman with a sound halfway between laughter and sobs.  
“You would have been so proud of us...” Dwalin said into Nori's hair, “Picking them off one by one in the dark... we got a good half of them before they figured it out.”  
They drew the guards in to the guardhouse, and barred the door.  
The next day, Nori was gone, and so was the horse.  
Dwalin did not seem surprised, even though there was no unbarricaded entrance for the thief to have escaped from.  
Four days later, Thorin Stonehelm arrived with the King's Own warriors, and Lady Hyrja was escorted the rest of the way to Erebor the way she probably should have been in the first place, at the center of an army.

 King Dain was praising Dwalin and Lady Hyrja's personal guards for seeing her safely to Erebor despite the unforeseen difficulties, and Lady Hyrja did not know why Nori had not been invited too. He had done _so_ much... but Dain was the King, and she was just not-quite-princess.  
They walked their way all together into the King's personal chambers, where the King and Thorin sighed and rolled their eyes and Dwalin turned red and shook in a way that could have been either rage or suppressed laughter. Possibly both. Lady Hyrja bit her lips and tried not to laugh.  
 _I'm probably as red as Dwalin  
_ Nori was lying lounged on his side across the King's table, dressed very richly in fine silks, gold, and emeralds, snacking on a bowl of something.  
“Candied hazelnuts?” he offered them, “You always have the _best_ snacks in here...”  
“How did you get in _this_ time?” the King asked, then sighed again, shaking his head, “Nevermind. Lady Hyrja, may I introduce you to...”  
“We've met.” Nori interrupted with a smile, pulling a sheathed knife out of his tunic and tossing it to Lady Hyrja. “The knife of the filthy bastard who was trying to see you killed. His Majesty's spies were very helpful in figuring out who it was... and making him _go away_.”  
“ _Thank you_ , Nori... I am...” Lady Hyrja's voice broke on her.  
 _I cannot even express the gratitude I have for all he has done for me..._  
Nori pressed his hand to his heart, nodding to her as he gestured downward elegantly.  
“At your service, my Lady.” he said, gently, then grinned at the King and bounced off the table, swaggering past them out of the King's chambers, running his hand lightly across Dwalin's chest with a suggestively raised eyebrow on his way past.  
“If he were not so useful, I would have had him executed years ago.” the King commented, but with no real bite to it. “Lady Hyrja, if the thief has given you insult?”  
“Your Majesty...” Lady Hyrja bowed, “After this trip I do not think I would ever feel safe traveling without Dwalin at my side, knowing the thief was nearby.”  
“I will see to it.” The King smiled at her, “They are the best I have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one fought with me from beginning to end.
> 
> Now with art!  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/45789638142/sketches-axe-omakes-chapter8-by-thorinsmut


	23. We cannot get out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been avoiding writing this because it is sad, but then Tagath prompted _Nori's reaction to Ori going to the Moria/learning that his litle bro will never come back?_ and I had to.   
>  I am so sorry.

 

_Balin Lord of Moria fell in Dimrill Dale. He went alone to look in Mirror mere, an orc shot him from behind a stone. We slew the orc, but many more . . . up from east up the Silverlode._

_We have barred the gates._

_We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and the second hall . . . The Watcher in the Water took Oin . . . We cannot get out . . . drums, drums in the deep._

_they are coming._

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, Chapter V - The Bridge of Kazad-Dum, excerpts from Ori's record. 

 

“We cannot get out.” Nori repeated hollowly the words Gimli had tearfully recited for the last few who remained of the Company as he told the story of what he had found in Moria. Nori sat staring at the table. Dori was bustling around him making tea and it was almost enough to make Nori angry, but he couldn't. It was the only way Dori knew how to cope and he couldn't. He couldn't be angry at the only brother he had left. 

“We cannot get out.” Nori moaned, hands over his face and ignoring the tea Dori had placed in front of him. 

He should have been there. 

There was no such thing as no way out. 

There was not a trap, not a jail, not a _mountain_ that could hold Nori. Even Erebor had had seven escape routes when the Company was besieged inside and a dragon had spent over a hundred years trying to seal itself in _there._

If Nori had been there, if Nori had gone to Moria, his baby brother would still be alive. 

There was _no such thing_ as no way out, not in Nori's world. 

“We should have been there.” Dori's voice sounded as hollow as Nori felt. 

“We tried.” Nori reminded. 

They _had_ tried. They had both of them come to join up with Balin when they heard that Ori had – just like old times, just like they had when Ori had signed up with Thorin so long ago. 

He had asked them not to. He was a grown Dwarf, strong and handsome with his big nose and the thick crop of hair they'd all three inherited from their mother. 

Ori had cracked foreheads with them both and asked them to stay, to let him go and have his own adventures now, live his own life.

“Why did we listen to him?” Dori asked. 

“We shouldn't have.” Nori answered. 

He had failed. 

_Nori_ had failed. Dori had nothing to be guilty of, if he'd gone he just would have died with them. 

Nori could have saved them. Nori could have gotten them _out._

...Nori had taken Ori's side against Dori once he realized that Ori didn't want them with him. 

Nori might as well have held the weapon that killed his brother himself. 

“We cannot get out.” Nori murmured as Dori lay his head on his arms and began to cry on the kitchen table. Those words repeating... Ori might as well have looked Nori in the eye and blamed him, because there was no such thing as no way out, not for Nori, and if Nori had been there he would have gotten Ori out. 

When they'd been on the quest for Erebor his brothers would not run, no matter how bad things got. He'd thought the same would be true of reclaiming Moria. 

“We cannot get out.” Nori's lips moved, but no sound left him. 

When he'd come with them to Erebor and offered them a way out, his brothers would not take it. When he'd sent his brother off alone to Moria he'd _needed_ a way out and Nori was not there to give it to him. 

Ori had died alone and afraid and hopeless and he must have known that Nori could have gotten them out. 

“We cannot get out.” he'd written again and again, and he might as well have written “Where are you Nori?” 

Nori stood, walking slowly out of the kitchen. 

He was not the only one who'd lost a brother. Dwalin had too. 

Nethanu was sitting on his cushion, tears rolling silently down his porcelain face as he stared into the middle distance. 

Ori had been the young Elf's friend for over fifty years before he left to Moria. They had been as brothers to one another in a way Nori had never been able to with Nethanu. 

“Go to him.” Nori said, his voice sounding strangely flat to his ears as he gestured toward the kitchen and Dori. 

Nethanu sprang to his feet and threw himself into the kitchen, falling to his knees beside Dori's chair and wrapping his long long arms around him, dark head pressed tight to Dori's chest. 

Nori left them comforting one another in their tears. 

Dwalin was, predictably, destroying practice dummies with his axes, his face set with rage and sorrow. He took one look at Nori and gestured him over with a turn of his white-bearded head. 

Nori drew his favorite curved knives and threw himself into shredding dummies beside his Dwalin. They knew how to move around one another, they'd fought side by side enough for that. 

Dwalin cleaved heads with his axes, removed limbs, and Nori danced under and through his strokes, gutting and disabling and slaughtering, ruthless and efficient. 

When there were no more practice dummies left they collapsed together on the floor, sweaty and exhausted in the wreckage of torn cloth and straw and splintered wood. Dwalin petted the very end of Nori's white braid. 

“I would not have let Balin get shot.” Dwalin said, “I would have gone with him. Guarded him. He _should_ have had more seasoned warriors.” 

“They wanted a way out. I would have found one.” Nori answered, “There is _always_ a way out.” 

Their eyes met, blue and hazel, and they nodded to one another in understanding. 

They did not offer empty platitudes. They did not lie to one another that there was nothing they could have done. 

“We cannot get out.” words scrawled desperately across a page in his brother's dieing hand. 

There are some things that cannot be forgiven. 

“We cannot get out.” 

The weight of the words settled into Nori's heart, his to carry forever. 

There was _always_ a way out. 

He should have been there to find it. 


	24. Legolas and Nethanu, Gimli and Dori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Elf and a Dwarf each go to the Elf and Dwarf they know who know the most about Dwarves and Elves, respectively.

 

After everything: the great battles, the coronation, after returning to Greenwood to tell his father the King everything that had happened, after a short time to rest and to mourn those lost – Legolas traveled to Erebor to visit with Gimli, his friend...

perhaps _more_ than friend, but he did not know if it was possible. True there were tales of the great friendships between Elves and Dwarves long ago, the great Gates of Moria were built as a collaboration between two of their races, but such things had not been known for an Age and he did not know if there was ever more than friendship between an Elf and a Dwarf. 

Legolas came to Erebor to see Gimli, his friend, to see if there could still be friendship between them when mortal peril did not drive them on, to see if there could be _more_. 

He was greeted with warmth and hospitality, and he enjoyed Gimli's loud easy company and his casually affectionate touches – a smack to the back, a nudge with an elbow, a light punch here or there – that Legolas had grown to treasure over their journey, so different from how Elves were with one another, but he now saw these same gestures everywhere, between any friendly Dwarves and he feared he had seen in these touches more than Gimli had intended. 

He continued with his habit of touching Gimli when he could, a hand often on Gimli's broad shoulder, and he wondered if Gimli saw how much he intended with these touches. 

At night he returned to the quarters designated for Elf emissaries, and he missed the nights in their travels when he lay beside Gimli for warmth, breathing the earth-and-metal scent of him, he even missed his snoring. 

After a week of spending his days with Gimli, wonderful days seeing all the glories of Erebor, and his nights lonely and alone, Legolas parted from Gimli one afternoon to try to find the Elf who might be able to answer his question, whether or not it was _possible_ for there to be more than friendship between Elves and Dwarves. 

Young though he was, still hardly more than a child, Nethanu had spent more years living with Dwarves than any other Elf in Middle-earth that Legolas knew of. He'd left the Greenwood to live in Erebor soon after reaching his majority, when it was still newly reclaimed some eighty years before. 

Legolas found the little cook in the kitchen of the Elf quarters, the young wood-Elf bowing deeply when he saw him. 

“Prince Legolas.” he greeted respectfully, his hair all done in attractive Dwarf-style braids, the cut and fabric of his clothes matching that worn by Dwarves. 

“How may I serve you?” he asked, tension clear in his shoulders and not meeting Legolas's eyes, and Legolas remembered with pain hearing Nethanu mocked by Greenwood emissaries for his desire to live with the Dwarves – the little cook did not expect to be treated kindly by Elves. 

“Peace, Nethanu.” Legolas soothed, “I had hoped you could help me. You know more of Dwarves than any other Elf I know.” 

“...I know a little.” Nethanu said cautiously, turning back to something he was cooking on the stove. “I will help you if I can.” 

Legolas was suddenly unsure how to approach his question. “How much do you know of the Fellowship and...” he sidestepped. 

“I have heard the tale.” Nethanu answered, “Though... not as told by an Elf.” 

Legolas told him – Rivendell, Caradhras, Khazad-Dum... the little cook cringing at the description of what they had found... Lothlorien, the Great River and the loss of Boromir... the wild chase into Rohan, Fangorn Forest and Helm's Deep and on to Gondor and terrible battles fought there, and later the coronation of Aragorn, King Elessar – and Legolas knew he must be revealing himself too much with his descriptions of Gimli and of their friendship – he could not tell the story honestly otherwise – but unlike the others of his people Nethanu did not look at him strangely for it, and Legolas had hope. 

Nethanu cooked as Legolas spoke, and sometimes he smiled, and sometimes he cringed, and Legolas found himself helping where he could – coring berries or greasing tins, and it did seem that Nethanu was surprised by this but it did not seem fair to Legolas otherwise. 

The telling of the tale, abbreviated though the telling had been, had taken many hours. Nethanu had made berry tarts and crisp little sweet biscuits, loading them into baskets, and it was all done when Legolas finally finished. 

“What did you wish to know of Dwarves?” Nethanu asked, and his gaze was direct now – his face open, his posture relaxed. 

And now here it was, the question Legolas needed to know, a thing too strange to be asked but he _must_ know. 

Of all the Elves Legolas knew, Nethanu was the least likely to judge him for it but Legolas was still afraid. 

“Do you think... is it _possible_... for there to be _more_ than friendship between an Elf and a Dwarf?” he asked. 

Nethanu touched his braids and smiled, handing Legolas one of the baskets he had packed, “Come with me.” he said simply. 

They walked together through the Mountain, through streets Legolas had not seen before. Nethanu was greeted as a friend here and there, sharing a smile with a few words and a brief touch before moving on, touching as easily and familiarly as any Dwarf. A few asked who Legolas was. 

“This is Legolas, Gimli's friend.” Nethanu would introduce, and the Dwarves would nod knowingly. 

They came to a pretty little tea shop and Nethanu led him inside. 

“ _There_ you are, Nethanu.” the elderly Dwarf with immaculate braids in the shop greeted, “I'm running off my feet.” 

“Let me settle Legolas.” Nethanu said, brushing his fingertips to the Dwarf's cheek tenderly, setting his basket on the counter. Legolas set his too, and Nethanu led him to the corner, where a comfortable cushion was waiting beside a little table. 

Seated on it, suddenly Legolas was at the right height to see the faces of the Dwarves around him. He was no longer too tall. 

“Wait here.” Nethanu said, putting a fragrant teapot on the little table beside Legolas along with a few of the crisp biscuits he'd helped make. 

The teashop had a much calmer air than the places Gimli took Legolas to, practically peaceful for Dwarves, though still rowdier than a gathering of Elves. 

Dwarves shouted at Nethanu, who yelled right back, smiling. He whisked back and forth in the shop, bringing pots of tea and plates of tarts and biscuits to tables, greeting and being greeted with touches – a clasped hand, a pat to the back, once leaning down down down to knock foreheads, smiling and laughing, open and free, much more like a Dwarf than an Elf. 

Legolas had only just begun watching the way Nethanu interacted with the Dwarf who'd first greeted him on entry, Dori was the name he responded to, when Gimli arrived. 

“Dori!” He shouted in his own wonderful brash way, “I need to...” Nethanu had caught Gimli's attention with a brief flick of his fingers, directing his attention to Legolas' corner and Gimli threw back his head, laughing with surprise. 

He stomped over and settled himself in the chair beside Legolas' cushion, pouring himself a cup of tea. He smiled at Legolas, clapping him affectionately on the shoulder and leaned back, eyes shining. He did not remove his hand. 

“Watch the two of them.” he said, indicating Nethanu and Dori, “When they start to forget themselves...” 

Legolas leaned into Gimli's touch slightly, sipping his tea, and obeyed. 

The pair worked around each other easily, never getting in each other's way, complimenting each other. Dori was like a rock and Nethanu the wind flowing around him. They touched whenever they were close, a light brush of Nethanu's fingertips across Dori's cheek or shoulders, Dori's hand resting softly on Nethanu's hip, or catching Nethanu's fleeing hand to squeeze it. 

It was the way they looked at one another every time they touched, eyes soft and warm, that began to clue Legolas in to the nature of their relationship. 

The teashop was busy, Dori and Nethanu both rushing but still never getting in one another's way. Nethanu was spinning away with a tray of cups when he touched a finger to his lips and pressed it to Dori's cheek, almost too fast to notice. 

Legolas looked at Gimli with surprise, and Gimli nodded. 

“Keep watching.” he said. 

The faster they moved, the more they touched. They were not speaking with each other, not with words, but they were communicating volumes. Dori's arm squeezing around Nethanu's waist, or catching Nethanu's hand to press a quick kiss to it. 

It was like a dance, Nethanu orbiting Dori, flying away but always returning, and the message of that dance was love. Legolas looked around, saw Dwarves watching the dance unfold with complacent smiles on their faces, clearly used to the sight. 

Legolas leaned his head against Gimli's shoulder, smelling his warm metal scent and feeling the comfortable heat of him. 

“Nethanu brought me here when I asked if it was possible for there to be _more_ than friendship between an Elf and a Dwarf.” Legolas said quietly. “I am happy to see that it is.” 

“I came here to ask Dori' advice on how to court you.” Gimli said, and laughed, and Legolas could not help but join him. Gimli squeezed his shoulder. 

“Nethanu!” Gimli called, “More tea and tarts!” 

“With you in a moment, Gimli!” Nethanu called back, hands full. 

“What, no special treatment?” Gimli roared back, mock-angry and laughing. 

“Not for the likes of _you_.” Nethanu retorted, throwing a smile in their direction. 

… they _knew_ each other, and that was surprising to Legolas. Gimli had felt as poorly about Elves as Legolas did about Dwarves when they first met in Rivendell. 

“Never trust an Elf?” Legolas asked, looking from Gimli to Nethanu, raising an eyebrow in question, and Gimli laughed at the memory. 

“Nethanu's not an Elf.” he said. 

Legolas looked from Nethanu to Gimli and back again, keeping his eyebrow raised. 

Nethanu brought them a fresh pot of tea and some of the berry tarts Legolas had helped make, whisking away their dirty dishes. 

“Look at him.” Gimli said, when Nethanu was out of hearing again, smiling wide as he greeted another customer with a gentle slap to the back, “He was never happy among Elves... and Dori settled it – with those braids he's adopted as a brother. He's a Dwarf.” 

Legolas leaned back from Gimli a little in surprise, “Brother?” he said, watching Dori press a brief kiss to Nethanu's palm, their eyes meeting warm with promises. “That does not look like _brother_ to me.” 

“It's all the same.” Gimli said dismissively, crunching into a berry tart. “Marriage makes brothers... how does the old verse go?” 

_My One, mine Only_

_Brother of my brothers and_

_Kin of my kin_

_Carved of the same stone_

_Until the stone we return_

“Bah...” He shook his head, “The Westron translation does not do it justice. It looses all the subtlety.” 

Legolas sipped his tea thoughtfully. It seemed that Dwarves took the idea joining of two families in marriage a bit further than Elves did. 

“Would you...” Legolas touched his hair, gesturing at Nethanu's braids, “Would you want to make _me_ a Dwarf like that?” he asked. 

“No.” Gimli's answer was reassuringly quick, “No one _made_ a Dwarf out of Nethanu, Dori just let him be what he already was. _You_ are an Elf clean through – but, Mahal forgive, I _still_ love you.”

Legolas bit into a berry tart. He had not _expected_ that, a declaration so soon, but _no_ , it was right. There was no other word than love for what had grown between them on their journey. 

“Yes.” Legolas said, leaning into Gimli more firmly, “I would not be parted from you. I would not have another, not of _any_ race. You would always have had my heart, whether you would have me or no.” 

Gimli gripped Legolas' shoulder tighter, and they sat in comfortable silence again, watching Nethanu and Dori work around one another as the evening wore on and the tea shop gradually quieted. 

“How will we do this, then?” Gimli asked. “I will not be happy living in a forest, and you will not be happy living under a mountain.” 

“We will find a way.” Legolas promised, though it would not be easy. He could not see a way where they would be by one another's side all the time. Legolas was a Prince of Elves, and Gimli a Lord of Dwarves. 

It would not be easy but, smiling at the solid Dwarf beside him, Legolas knew it would be worth it to spend as many years as Aule gave Gimli with him. 

“For now...” He smiled, “I would like _not_ to spend my nights alone?” 

Gimli chuckled, “I could not agree more.” he said, and his tone promised everything Legolas had been dreaming of, and more. 

They would find a way. 

 

_Gimli Gloin's son is renowned, for he was one of the Nine Walkers that set out with the Ring; and he remained in the company of King Elessar throughout the War. He was named Elf-friend because of the great love that grew between him and Legolas, son of King Thranduil, and because of his reverence for the Lady Galadriel._

_After the Fall of Sauron, Gimli brought south a part of the Dwarf-folk of Erebor, and he became Lord of the Glittering Caves. He and his people did great works in Gondor and Rohan. For Minas Tirith they forged gates of_ mithril _and steel to replace those broken by the Witch-king. Legolas his friend also brought south Elves out of Greenwood, and they dwelt in Ithilien, and it became once again the fairest country in all the westlands._

_But when King Elessar gave up his life Legolas followed at last the desire of his heart and sailed over Sea._

_We have heard tell that Legolas took Gimli Gloin's son with him because of their great friendship, greater than any that has been between Elf and Dwarf. If this is true, then it is strange indeed: that any Dwarf should be willing to leave Middle-earth for any love, or that the Eldar should receive him, or that the Lords of the West should permit it._

_J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings – Appendix A_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I will never be sorry for shipping Legolas/Gimli. I firmly maintain that, even if he didn't know that's what he was doing, Tolkien wrote them in a gay relationship. 
> 
> Also, it bears mentioning that the way Gimli feels about Nethanu's Elf-ness (or lack thereof) may not match up with the way Dori or Nethanu feel about it. 
> 
> Also, one final note, I feel like Legolas/Gimli could still be seen as “friendship greater than any that has been between Elf and Dwarf” even in a universe where Nethanu/Dori exists, because Nethanu and Dori live much quieter lives. Nethanu is just a no-name cook and Dori lives quietly and has his teashop after Erebor was reclaimed. They don't really make the history books the way Gimli and Legolas, two of the Nine Walkers and much more public figures, do.   
> So there's that.


	25. How many faces?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Dain ponders the many faces of Nori the Thief

Dain was made a King by luck and by the chance of birth.

He _remained_ a King by knowing Dwarves, seeing through them, understanding them. He was good at it and had only grown better over the long years of his rule, but there were still some who defied his understanding.

Dwalin's thief, for example.

Dwalin himself was easy to understand, as steady and solid as granite, straightforward and unchanging and unflinchingly loyal.

Dain would _never_ have trusted _anything_ to Nori without Dwalin's assurances, and that would have been a shame. Nori was useful, he could get into places and hear things Dain's own spies couldn't. Over the many long years of their acquaintance Dain had come to _trust_ the thief, trust in the loyalty Nori would, under torture, deny he had – and it was strange, so strange, because Dain _still_ did not know _who_ Nori was.

There were so many faces to the thief.

He was not the pretty knotmaker mask he wore when he had to accompany Dwalin at court, flirting indiscriminately to make Dwalin laugh. He seemed to take an inordinate pleasure in making people Dwalin didn't like jealous of him, and in convincing Dwalin to tumble him in quiet corridors or empty rooms of the palace where he _really_ ought not. Dain knew it wasn't who Nori was, but whenever he saw him in the disguise he could not see through it. There was nothing about Nori that told him he _wasn't_ a silly flirt interested in nothing but gossip and jewels.

He might be the sarcastic swaggering Dwarf who somehow, _impossibly_ , was always able to get into Dain's personal chambers, the Dwarf who smiled as sharp as the knives he carried and gave Dain no respect and excellent information. There was something of the flirt in him, the way he dressed in his fine silks and jewels, the way he displayed himself lying across a table, or leaning against a wall, or lounging in Dain's favorite chair. This Nori mocked him and told him things he needed to know, and when he was given a task he would yawn and refuse to say if he would or would not do it... but it was _always_ done. Dain might have thought that this was the true face of the thief but for the way Dwalin would choke on suppressed laughter when he saw him this way.

Nori might be the serious-faced Dwarf Dain occasionally spotted having a quiet word with the spymaster, very very still save for the light flashing off a small knife turning and turning in his fingers as they talked.

Dain had had _words_ with his spymaster when Nori could _not_ be prevented from entering his personal chambers, and the harried Dwarf had thrown his hands in the air and declared that he believed the Guards were right, and Nori was a mischief demon released from the rock. He said that it was _not possible_ to pick a lock as quickly as Nori sometimes could.

“He is a demon, and locks open before him at his wish.” the spymaster said, “He cannot be kept out of any place he wishes to be.”

Dain had seen a few of the letters Nori had left, undetected, in Erebor's highest security prison cells – security tips helpful, tone insulting, calligraphy immaculate.

Nori might be the many-named thief who drank in the dark dangerous taverns the Guard could never control, dressed in plain rough clothes and never without a knife dancing in his fingers, laughter sharp and smile deadly. The one who was desired and half-feared by the cutthroats and thieves he surrounded himself with. The one who spotted Dain despite his disguise, smiled a smile to chill the blood, and swaggered off – dangerous Dwarves following in his wake. The one who was propositioned by an old lover by being slammed against a wall and answered with lightning-fast knives and horrifying threats. Dain knew he wasn't this Dwarf, not fully, because _this_ Dwarf would never serve _any_ King.

He was a flawless hero to little Ori, who chafed against reducing him to nothing but a shadow in the histories.

He was a good-for-naught scoundrel to Dori, who loved him regardless.

To Dwalin he was simply _everything._ Dain did not flatter himself that Dwalin would choose his King over his thief if a choice ever had to be made.

Perhaps the most confusing was what Nori was to the Lady Hyrja, Dain's daughter-in-law. There was a _politeness_ in the way he dealt with her, a gentleness, and her trust in him was evident and absolute. When he pressed his hand to his heart and nodded to her, gesturing downward as if to describe a bow he could not bring himself to give to _anyone_ , the impact was the same as another Dwarf swearing a blood-oath of fealty.

The Lady Hyrja had Nori's loyalty openly. She traveled _nowhere_ without him and Dwalin, and Dain could not help but think that she was the safest Dwarf in all of Middle Earth.

When Dain thought on it, and he did not _often_ , a King had many other things to occupy his time, he thought that probably the most honest look he had ever seen of Nori was the time he'd returned, dirty, exhausted, and half-starved, from an information-gathering mission and his information had been critical enough he made no stops before delivering it.

He ate ravenously, tearing big chunks of bread from a loaf with his teeth, shoveling the simple stew they'd rounded up for him into his mouth like someone used to not wanting to taste what he had to eat.

He delivered his information concisely as he ate, with none of the sneering or sarcasm Dain expected from him. Nori spoke plainly, as if to an equal, and that was not something a King was used to.

He kept his back to the wall and his eyes on everything that moved, picking out and watching the concealed spies who were listening to his recitation, perched on the edge of his chair, tensed as if to run at any instant, and wasted no effort on ridiculous flirtation or posturing.

Nori did not acknowledge Dwalin when he arrived, but Dain noticed the tension bleeding out of him as Dwalin instinctively took a protective stance beside him, until he no longer looked like he was about to run... he just looked _tired,_ and old. _  
_

When he was done and had delivered everything Dain needed to know, the King's spies slipping out of the room unseen to make use of the new information, he finally looked up at Dwalin with a small smile. The big warrior put a hand gently on the back of his neck.

“How long since you slept?” Dwalin asked, and Nori just shook his head. Dwalin cursed quietly, then made a polite but brief farewell to Dain and dragged his thief away.

As the door closed behind them Dain saw Nori sag against Dwalin, easily caught and supported by the bigger Dwarf.

Dain still didn't _know_ Nori, but he knew that Nori was smart, he _had_ to be to juggle so many lives, so many names and faces, and he knew that Nori had skills he needed, and he knew that Nori did terribly illegal things that he ought to be arrested for, and he knew that his Guards _would_ not chase him and his jail _could_ not hold him, and he had connections even the spymaster could only dream of.

He knew that Nori would never admit, even under torture, that he held loyalty to _anyone_... and he knew that Nori would work himself to the point of collapse gathering and delivering information for him, would put his own life and body on the line before he allowed harm to come to the royal family or the members of Thorin's Company.

Dain knew Dwarves, read them, saw through them, understood them, and used them to his advantage. It is how he remained a King. He was good at it, but there were still some Dwarves who defied his understanding

Dwalin's thief, for example.

Dain would likely never know which was his true face, never be able to predict him, but he trusted him completely.


	26. The Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori lets go of his last secret
> 
> AKA: soppy old Dwarves in love. Bittersweet. 
> 
> Warning for talk of death, I suppose.

In over a hundred years, Dwalin had not asked what Nori kept in his hair.  
The rest of his secrets had fallen, one by one, most of them without conscious thought, until what he kept in his hair was the only secret he held.

 Nori had been bored, and pulled the little delicate lockpicks out of the lining of his boot, leaning over to fiddle with a lock that looked interesting. He didn't realize what he'd done, that he was talking with Dwalin and that Dwalin was _watching_ him pick a lock for the first time, until his giant stopped talking. He saw the stunned and surprised look on Dwalin's face. He looked at his hands, holding picks, the open cabinet...  
“Oh.” He said.  
He hadn't even realized. He'd just felt _safe_... Dwalin seeing him pick a lock, and seeing where his lockpicks lived, hadn't even registered as a threat.  
Dwalin grabbed him and kissed him until he couldn't breathe.  
“Clever thief.” he said, voice warm with affection.

 They were at home in Erebor when Nori decided to retire one of his sets of clothes. He sat on the hearth with a little knife and picked out the stitches that held all his little hidden gemstones – emergency money in case he ever needed it. Dwalin brought him a bowl, scooping the gemstones into it and sitting behind him, letting Nori lean against him.  
“That's very clever.” he said, while Nori stitched the gemstones into his new set of working clothes.

 They had been protecting an envoy of the King, and running for their lives, when Nori had pulled the long lockpicks out of his beard and opened a door for them, locking it behind them and continuing on running, weaving them back into his graying braids without even thinking about the fact that Dwalin was right beside him, was watching him, until Dwalin laughed. He looked up to see his giant looking back down at him, amused and pleased.  
“Clever.” was his only comment.

 Dwalin knew where his emergency gold was, woven into the seams of his knife sheaths and boots. Dwalin knew where he kept all his tools, the little snips and pliers and shims, and the garrottes he almost never used, preferring knives. Dwalin knew the stories of all his knives. Dwalin knew all the stories of Nori's life, and Nori knew all the stories of Dwalin's, so they were almost one Dwarf instead of two... everything except Nori's hair.  
In over a hundred years, Dwalin had never once asked what he kept in his hair. In over a hundred years, he never forgot to ask for permission before touching Nori's hair when it was braided.

 Nori lay on the couch, reclining against Dwalin.  
He had never expected to get old enough to die of old age, with the dangerous life he lived. He had expected to die young and violently. He had never expected to outlive his brothers, but here he was, the last living son of Kori, feeling the weight of years pressing down on his bones. Dwalin was still whole and strong, his body showed no signs of giving out, though he was older than Nori... but Nori could feel himself slipping. He didn't have too many years left.  
“How did we get so old?” he asked.  
“ 's _your_ fault.” Dwalin said. “You're too good at keeping us alive. You're too clever.”  
“I _am_ clever.” Nori preened, and Dwalin chuckled, a lovely deep rumble against his back.  
Nori had never expected to live to be so old. He had never expected to be outlived by the Dwarf he loved. He had never expected to have someone he trusted with all his secrets, maybe even more than he trusted himself. He had expected to take the secret of his key to the grave with him, something that no one else in the world knew, a little reminder to himself that _he_ was the clever thief with a key that could open any lock.  
He thought about showing it to Dwalin, and the thought was not frightening. It felt safe, it felt _right_ , and he knew that his giant would love it. Dwalin always loved it when he was clever.  
“Do you want to know the cleverest thing I ever did?” he asked.  
“...is it that thing with your tongue, when you...” Dwalin teased, and Nori elbowed him, laughing.  
“Aye, I'd like to know.” Dwalin said, a smile in his voice.  
“Unbraid my hair.” Nori answered, sitting up so Dwalin could reach it easier. He felt his giant tense.  
“Are you _sure_.” he asked, voice now completely serious.  
For over a hundred years, Nori had guarded this one last secret from him. No one in the whole world had ever known about it. It had been Nori's secret, his and his alone.  
He didn't want to keep it any more. He wanted just _one_ person to know.  
“Unbraid my hair.” he repeated, quiet.  
Dwalin's fingers were sure, slow and steady as they started at the end of Nori's long white braid, removing the simple silver clasp and brushing the braid out. He had unbraided Nori's hair before, many times, but always when Nori had braided it up with the intention of his unbraiding. He paused in surprise when he discovered the thick solid braids hidden along Nori's scalp under his peaks.  
He set to work unbraiding them in perfect silence, pausing when he found the first pin. He looked it over, then set it on the table, finding more pins, and shafts, and set after set of adjustable teeth. He set them all on the table, running his fingers through Nori's hair, massaging his scalp. Nori leaned into it.  
“What are they?” Dwalin asked, Nori gestured, and Dwalin scooped up all the pieces, placing them in Nori's lap.  
Nori picked up a few pieces, his hands still steady for all they were much slower than they had been in his youth. He strung a few teeth on a pin, snapped it into shaft, adjusted the heights of the teeth, and showed it to Dwalin.  
“Our house key.” He said. Dwalin was perfectly still, frozen behind him. He unsnapped the key and disassembled it, picking up different pieces, snapping them into a new key.  
“The King's personal chambers.” He said, with a grin, he disassembled that key and made another, a larger heavy key.  
“The Royal treasure chamber.” He said, took it apart and made another.  
“The elf king's dungeon.” he said, taking it apart and assembling another. He'd not been able to quite reproduce it at the time, but he'd had many years to have more versatile pieces made.  
“Thorin's key.” he said. Dwalin was still unmoving behind him, almost not breathing. Nori made one last one.  
“Ered Luin Jail's cells.” he said. “That's how I escaped... not my picks.”  
“...you...” Dwalin breathed.  
“I have a key that can open any lock.” Nori said, “I had different smiths make every piece. No one else has ever seen it.” He disassembled the final key, putting the pieces all back in order and slipping them up his sleeves.  
Dwalin wasn't moving.  
This was the part... this was the part where Dwalin was supposed to tell him how clever he was. Dwalin always loved it when he was clever.  
It was the cleverest idea he'd ever had, and it had served him well through the long years of breaking into and out-of anywhere he ever wanted to...  
Dwalin wasn't _moving_.  
Maybe Dwalin didn't think it was clever after all. It was true that Nori could open almost anything with his picks, but it was so much more convenient to have a key. Once the key was assembled it could open a lock much faster and more discreetly than feeling his way with picks.  
It was the best tool he had, and the thing he was the most proud of, the very _last_ secret he had to offer to his giant and Dwalin wasn't _moving_ , wasn't _saying anything_...  
Nori didn't realize he'd started to pull away, hunching in on himself, until Dwalin's big hands were on his shoulders, turning him toward his giant.  
“Nori...” Dwalin's voice was choked, and Nori turned, seeing tears standing in the eyes of his big Dwarf but not spilling over, shaking his head in disbelief. He was old and battered and scarred and tattooed and _perfect_ and he was looking at Nori as though he were the most beautiful thing in the world. He ran his fingers through the white hair to the sides of Nori's face, cradling his cheeks.  
“My clever thief...” he said, “How did a dull old warrior like me ever catch you?”  
Nori smiled as he crawled onto Dwalin, who adjusted himself so it was comfortable for his thief to lay on him.  
“I never imagined....” Dwalin said, rubbing his back, then chuckled, “The King's personal chambers... that's how you always get in...”  
“Not always.” Nori corrected, “I sometimes use other ways...”  
“mmm...” Dwalin rumbled, “ _My_ thief is the cleverest thief.”  
“Clever enough to trick the most _honorable_ Dwarf I know into having me.” Nori said, and Dwalin gave him a squeeze.  
They lay together comfortably, for a while.  
“When you give me back to the stone... I want my key with me.” Nori said, quietly, “So I can never be caged...”  
“You'll have it, you'll have it, I swear.” Dwalin said, gently, “and your picks and all your tools, and all your knives, and your emergency gold and gems, and an emergency piece of _cram_ , fresh baked, and a fresh tin of salve – just in case the dead can fuck.”  
Nori had never thought he would die of old age, and if he did he didn't think he would be outlived by the Dwarf he loved. It did not seem fair that the reckless thief and the reckless warrior would be two of the last living of the Company, the last of their families.  
“I... I don't want to leave you...” Nori could feel the tears in his eyes, “I don't want you to be alone...”

“Shhh...” Dwalin soothed, running his fingers through his thief's long white hair that had lost none of it's luster or softness to the years. “I'll not be alone. There's Stonehelm and Hyrja's rascals to train, and all of Bombur's get to fuss over me, and the Kid and his family visiting every spring, and Gimli still getting himself into trouble and calling for warriors...”  
“ _Gimli._ ” Nori snorted, “Damn Elf-fucker.”  
“So was your brother.” Dwalin reminded, laughing when Nori made a disgusted noise. He knew it was all show. Nori had grown to like Nethanu over the long years, seeing how happy the gentle Elf made Dori.  
“If there _is_ anything afterward...” Nori said, hesitantly, “I'll wait for you. I'll watch for you.”  
Dwalin smiled, a little sadly. He knew that Nori didn't hold to any one belief – going for a blend of his favorites from many different cultures while claiming to hope that there was nothing afterward.  
“I'll hunt you down and arrest you if you don't” he said, earning a chuckle.  
“If you can catch me.” Nori challenged.  
“I'll catch you.” Dwalin assured him. “I won't stop trying until I do.”  
“And we'll be together.” Nori said, quietly, nuzzling into Dwalin's chest.  
“And we'll be together.” Dwalin agreed, “Thief and Guardsman, can't have one without the other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with art:  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/46427346493/gah-only-image-to-chapter-13-of-axe-omakes-i-am  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/46449141600/colored-old-dwarves
> 
> And music:  
> http://come-chaos.tumblr.com/post/46449891562/i-have-a-key-that-can-open-any-lock
> 
> Because this fandom is overflowing with talent.
> 
> And also, for those wondering what happened to Nethanu and Dori, GreenKangaroo wrote a beautiful ending.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/680611/chapters/1378354


	27. Afterward

Dwalin opened his eyes.  
He was in a Mountain, but not like any Mountain he had seen before.  
It was vast.  
The sound of hammers echoed through it, the busy hum of industry surrounding him and he squared his shoulders, breathing deep.  
It felt _right_ , but there was something... something he was looking for...  
He walked forward, looking, looking...  
There was Thorin, young and smiling as he pounded on an anvil, and beside him Frerin and Dis, smiling as they worked together at the forge.  
“Dwalin!” they had spotted him, gesturing him over, pulling him in, their arms around him.  
“You finally made it.” Frerin grinned, drawing him in to bump foreheads, “Took you long enough!”  
“Will you work with us?” Dis asked, “There is _so much_ to do!”  
“Yes.” He agreed, but first he needed to find... find...  
He walked on, searching.  
There were Fili and Kili, sitting shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, Fili napping flint arrowheads and handing them to Kili, who was making arrows. They spotted him and jumped to their feet, running over to jump on him as they hadn't since they were little darrows.  
“Mister Dwalin!” Kili grinned, “You _have_ to tell us everything we missed!”  
“I will.” He agreed, but he was still looking for.. looking for...  
Nori.  
He was looking for Nori, Nori promised he'd wait for him, watch for him.  
Where was he? Where was his thief?  
He walked on, faster, looking everywhere, seeing and greeting everywhere friends and family who had gone on before, but nowhere Nori.  
Where _was_ he?  
Everywhere he looked Dwarves were busy, happy, working at their crafts and laughing with their families but Nori was nowhere to be found.  
Dwalin turned around and around, seeing everywhere Dwarves but not the one he wanted, not his thief with his ridiculous star-hair peaks that held the cleverest secret, not that cocky smile, not that confident swagger.  
There were Dwarves everywhere.  
All happy.  
All working.  
… all honorable.  
What if he was not here?  
What if there was no place for him here?  
Dwalin wanted to scream that Nori _was_ honorable, that he might be an unrepentant thief and a scoundrel but he protected countless emissaries and envoys and members of the royal family and he _always_ could be counted on. When push came to shove, he was _there_ , he was _dependable_ , and he would put his own life and body on the line before he let his charges come to harm. You could not ask for more from a Dwarf.  
Dwalin's breath was coming faster now, his hands clenching as he turned around again, seeing the vastness of the Mountain city, the halls of Mandos, and surely _surely_ in such a vast kingdom there was a place for Nori.  
He reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around a silky dragonfly knotted from the most beautiful red-brown hair.  
If there was no place for Nori here... then there was no place for Dwalin either.  
He would not stay. He would... he would...  
There was a touch on his side and he spun.  
A flash of red-brown hair, a lean body darting away, and Dwalin's pipe spinning through fingers held aloft – a laugh thrown over a shoulder with a flash of teeth and bright hazel eyes smiling at him.  
Dwalin was chasing after him before he could even finish the thought.  
The Mountain echoed with the joyful bellow of “Thief!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that folks.  
> It's been fun, and I hope you stick around for what I write next, though it won't be about Nori and Dwalin.  
> You can find me on Tumblr if you like  
> http://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/  
> <3  
> -TS
> 
> There is also art for this chapter!  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/46601163955/for-every-successful-painting-there-are-about-1000  
> http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/post/46603962231/and-then-there-was-photoshop-fixed-some-bits-i

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From A Single Spark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/768272) by [Thorinsmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut)




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